


Leave of Absence

by amelia_day



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Military, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Army, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Build, Slow Burn, trigger warning: army ptsd, trigger warning: military violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-07
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:47:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 25,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23056477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amelia_day/pseuds/amelia_day
Summary: When Peeta Mellark enlists for the army just after graduation, everyone was thinking the same thing. Not him. It wasn't supposed to be him...
Relationships: Katniss Everdeen/Peeta Mellark
Comments: 224
Kudos: 369





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All 'Hunger Games' characters and references belong to Suzanne Collins.

* * *

P a r t O n e 

* * *

It was hotter than hell outside.

I sipped on a cup of lukewarm punch that clung to the back of my throat uncomfortably and leaned up against one of the trees that littered the park for temporary relief from the scalding sun. 

The summer had been rainy. Weekly thunderstorms left the air muggy and difficult to breathe. On this day though, there wasn’t a loud in sight. Perfect weather for a celebration. 

Being a town of just a little over six thousand, Panem had no choice but to be the tight-knit community it was. It wasn’t often that there was something to celebrate, so things like graduation parties were open invitation to anyone who wanted to attend. Peeta Mellark really wasn’t any exception, just one in the string of those to come throughout the rest of summer and early fall. It was expected, but the atmosphere around his felt different. There was something about it that made everything feel...off. 

Everyone was thinking the same thing I was-- I just knew it.  _ Not him.  _ It wasn’t supposed to be him.

I watched the small group of people crowded around him listen intently while he spoke of his upcoming departure to El Paso, Texas on Monday. He looked so serious standing there with crossed arms that usually swung freely and lips pressed into a tight line where a smile had often been in the past. 

He was well known around Panem, cherished even.  _ The baker’s son _ who would sneak cookies to the kids when his mother wasn’t around. State champion wrestler, straight A student. Aspiring artist. In a class of only seventy-two, it was impossible not to know everything about everyone. But I had a feeling that even if there had been one thousand kids who graduated with us, Peeta Mellark would’ve stood out. He was just one of those people. 

The art studio was where he belonged, though. Creating something beautiful with the kind of talent that made people gasp in awe. 

Not on some battlefront overseas. 

“So how does it all work, son?” I overheard Mr. Undersee ask curiously as they rounded the tables lined with an overabundance of food. I had to wonder to myself how the man wasn’t sweating to death in the suit he’d donned for the occasion. On a daily basis, he dressed more like he was the President of the United States rather than the mayor of our podunk town. That of course made picnics a suit and tie affair. 

“My GI bill is for two years,” Peeta answered, pushing back the floppy blonde curls that fell into his face with one hand as he stacked two burgers onto his plate with the other. His eyes were bright, almost excited, with a sense of determination that seemed misplaced coming from the boy whom I occasionally caught napping in the back of our history class. 

“And the army plans to pay for all of your schooling?” Mr. Undersee asked, voice full of authority and a false sense of wisdom. 

“Dad,” Madge grumbled, rolling her eyes when he glanced up at her with a blank expression, like he hadn’t realized she--or anyone else--was standing there. Peeta looked up too, his eyes meeting mine for a moment before I turned down to the deviled eggs. I couldn’t stand the things, but I grabbed two and stuck them on my plate just to busy myself. 

“Leave him alone,” she insisted. “You’re asking all the basic questions every teenager hates answering. Peeta, don’t be polite.” She turned to him before he could protest. “You know that I’m right.”

His answering chuckle filled the awkward pause, and when Madge turned to her father expectantly I had to bite my lip to keep from smiling. She had a point, though--everyone had been hounding Peeta for details on his new and exciting plans, which were so different from the rest of ours. 

There weren’t many from our generation who planned on staying in Panem. He was just the only one who planned on leaving the  _ country _ . 

Despite Madge’s discouragement, Peeta dove into the same spiel I’d heard him give at least a dozen times since graduation. The conversation dwindled out of my hearing range as Madge and I turned to find a table, which I was fine with. It wasn’t exactly the sort of conversation I liked listening to. 

“I think it’s great. I do,” Madge said once we were sitting, pulling apart the trio of red, white and blue silverware that had been bundled at the beginning of the assembly line. “But it all seems… rushed. Don’t you think?” 

“You don’t want to know what I think,” I muttered. 

Madge’s face crinkled with the kind of sympathy I hadn’t seen in years. It had the same effect as it did back then, and I felt my stomach lurch as a natural defense barrier rose up. 

“I don’t think you should be able to decide if you’re ready to die before you can legally buy a beer.”

“Katniss!” she gasped, because I’d said the ‘D’ word. 

I offered only a shrug, because it was the truth. When he signed that contract with the army, he agreed that he’d kill or be killed for his country if it came down to that point. But of course, he wasn’t thinking about any of that. Just the compensation he’d earn afterwards. Go off and play war hero, then come home with a nice paycheck. At eighteen, everyone felt invincible. Peeta Mellark wasn’t any exception to that rule.

“So then what?” Mr. Undersee stopped in front of our table to finish their conversation as Peeta placed his plate down across from mine. 

“Then,” he chuckled, leaning up against the old, unstable wooden picnic bench with natural ease. “I better get accepted into art school.”

“Atta boy.” Mr. Undersee gave him a firm pat on the back before heading off to find his wife. Peeta settled in next to Madge, spearing two potato wedges with his fork as Darius and Delly filled in on the other side of him.

“Well, it’s nice to know you still make time for the little people,” Madge teased, mocking her father’s hard pat on Peeta’s back. When he snickered, she pinched the nape of his neck. 

“Unfortunately, you’re all hard to forget.”

“We’ll see in six months.” She smirked good-naturedly when he gave her a playful jab in the side with his elbow. 

“Everyone’s acting like I’m never coming back.”

“Are you?” Darius inquired with a twist of his lips.

“I mean to visit, yeah. I’ll probably have to do some sort of documentary special when I become a famous artist and they build my museum here.”

“Ladies and gentlemen: he does it all,” Darius spoke into his fist sarcastically, to which Peeta gave a playful roll of his eyes. That was just about the time they locked on mine again, and before I could avert my gaze, he smiled.

My lips rose and fell quickly, and I stuffed half of my hot dog into my mouth as an excuse to look away.

“Are you coming tonight?” he inquired softly, like his words were only meant for me to hear. Of course,  _ everyone _ heard, and all eyes were on me with the question lingering in the air. 

I stopped chewing to stare back at him, my cheeks burning from more than the sun’s glare. I swallowed heavily as my eyebrows dipped in mock confusion. 

“Where?”

“To the  _ actual _ party.” Delly quickly filled in. “At the slag heap.”

Oh. The  _ slag heap.  _ Duh. 

“You should,” he said with a silky smile, bringing a cool cup of water up to his lips. “It’ll be a good time.”

“Maybe,” I muttered. 

When his eyes lingered on mine a second longer than anyone else's, I had to force myself to remember he was an  _ idiot.  _ Sweet and kind of beautiful, but an idiot nonetheless. One who would be an expert in wielding weaponry in less than six months and could use his wrestling skills for more than just state competitions. 

One who was risking absolutely everything and everyone precious to him for a full ride to art school. 

I had zero time for anything related to the army, but after thirteen years of pleasant conversations and primarily fond memories with Peeta Mellark, I figured that I could make a little bit of time for him in what he had left.

And I planned on using it to make him change his mind about going to El Paso, Texas. 

+++

The  _ slag heap _ was just an abandoned field of gravel and other debris piled up on the outskirts of town. It’d been the construction site for a project that was started decades ago and never finished. Notoriously, it was a well-known teen hang out spot, where half of my graduating class lost their virginities, but tonight it was the location of Peeta’s  _ real _ farewell party.

A stream of car headlights illuminated the dark lot as it filled with more people, each bearing cases of beer and other contraband items that could get us all arrested if anyone in this town cared enough to check on this place. 

Lighters flickered between cupped hands and within a half hour the air was tainted by a filmy, poignant fog that made my chest burn when I inhaled too deeply. It also made my body sort of hum, which wasn’t so bad.

I watched in surprise as Madge expertly lit up a blunt, taking a deep puff before passing it to Delly who did the same. When their hazy eyes turned to me expectantly, I gave a curt shake of my head.

“Didn’t think so,” Madge sighed. “More for us, then.”

Music pumped through someone’s open car doors and the string of buzzing conversations happening made it difficult to focus on just one. A face I didn’t recognize in the poor lighting shoved beer into my free hand. I took it without complaint, bringing the bottle’s neck to my lips and taking a long sip. 

“And she came.” 

I opened an eye to find Peeta Mellark’s familiar smile peeking out from the side of my bottle. His arms were folded across his broad chest with the sleeves of his open flannel pushed up to his elbows. He held a beer in one hand--the same kind I had, but with a level of confidence that far surpassed mine. 

“I have to admit, I was banking on you being a no-show.”

“Yeah.” I swallowed with a nod, copying his cool posture. I took an awkward step backward when he walked closer, tilting my head to meet his eyes several inches above mine. He wore what looked like an amused smirk, lips twisted into a barely passable smile. 

“Well, I’m glad I was able to convince you. My night just got better because of it.”

I snorted with a roll of my eyes, unsure of what to say next. I took another sip of my beer to fill the silence while rocking back and forth on the balls of my feet. It was the perfect opportunity for him to bow out, but instead, Peeta surprised me when he leaned back against one of the heavy slag piles, settling in.

My posture was stiff with suspicion as I peered at him from the corner of my eye.

“You know, I don’t think I ever found out what your plans are for next year.” 

“I never told you,” I said bluntly, looking at him skeptically when he started to laugh. “They’re nothing special.” 

I was a little taken aback by the ease of our conversation. Honest to God, I could count on one hand how many times before then that we had talked. One on one, anyways. We’d been skirting around the same group of friends through most of our school years, so I’d been around Peeta Mellark plenty. Just...not like this. 

“Just going to the community college. Taking a couple of classes.” 

“What’s wrong with that?” he asked, truly perplexed with furrowed eyebrows before his lips twisted back up into an evasive smile. “It’s where I’d be going if they offered an art program.” 

“So, where is this 'art school’ anyways?” 

Peeta gave a look of mock-offense at my air-quotes around the words, and I hid a smile behind another sip of beer. 

“This  _ ‘art school’  _ is the best in the country, little lady. In New York, which is where I’ll be living two years from now if all goes according to plan.” 

“What makes you so sure you’ll even make it in a city?” The words came out before I could stop them and I felt my eyes widen on their own accord as I sputtered over words to back pedal with. “No--wait. I didn’t mean it like that, it’s just--”

“--I grew up here?” he finished with a chuckle, motioning around to the empty fields that stretched on for miles past our small town right smack dab in between nothing and nowhere. 

My skin burned, and I fiddled with the edge of my braid to hide my embarrassment. 

“Now you just sound like my mom, which, I hate to break it to you...is not a compliment.” 

“Sorry,” I whispered. 

He bumped me with his elbow the same way he’d done with Madge, like we’d been lifelong buddies, him and I.

“She just has her panties in a twist because she assumed I’d stay here. Work at the bakery with them for the rest of my life. She...doesn't really take my art seriously,” He sighed, giving a playful roll of his eyes before his expression turned into something more suspicious. “Hmm. Maybe that’s secretly what Katniss Everdeen wants, too.”

“What?” My head snapped in his direction at the accusation, and he tilted his back down toward the remainder of his beer. 

“Shit, ignore me. I need to stop drinking.” He laughed, the sound wry. “My mouth’s talkin’ before my brain gives it permission.”

“Looks like I have some catching up to do then,” I mumbled, tipping my bottle back in the same fashion he had. I heard him laugh again when some of the liquid slipped past my lips and dribbled down the side of my chin. 

“Now you’re getting it,” he chuckled. “Never seen a drunk Katniss Everdeen, but I bet she’s fun.”

“You’ve barely seen a sober one,” I muttered, and he had no quick comeback for that. “Anyways, you don’t want to hear what I have to say without a filter.”

“Oh, yeah?” he challenged, uncapping a new bottle for himself and one for me as well. “Fuck filters, right? Not like I have anything to lose. Try me.”

I studied him for a long moment before conceding. 

“Okay.” I stood up straighter and took another sip of my drink before directing my attention to the first person who walked by-- Marvel Ashby. “I think Marvel looks like a foot.”

Peeta spit out some of his beer, choking on the laughter that bubbled out of his throat as he stared back at me in disbelief. 

“Jesus.”

“And Clove Merriwick shouldn’t have been allowed to graduate before taking another semester of Health,” I muttered, frowning in distaste as I watched her all but crawl into some guys lap. “She had a pregnancy scare last year. Apparently, she didn’t realize you can’t get pregnant from giving a guy head.” 

Peeta groaned, like the system had failed us all, and maybe it had. 

“How do you know all of this?” he asked after a moment, to which I simply shrugged. 

“People say all sorts of things around me. Don’t you know I’m invisible?”

“You’re definitely not invisible,” he argued with a shake of his head. “Not to me.”

I hadn’t realized how much I’d been drinking until my words were a long string of slurred nonsense and the ground below me looked so much further away than usual. My body bent with the soft brush of wind, and just as that sinking feeling of falling started to settle, my shoulder collided with something solid. Slag, I’d assumed, but I was pretty sure slag didn’t have arms, and the warm breath against my head felt different than the air.

“I’d hate to hear what you thought about me,” he teased, unwilling to bring his arms away from me even after I’d steadied myself again. I didn’t mind, because Peeta and I were living the same way at that moment: untouched by consequences. The possibility of seeing each other again after tonight was slim, giving us a free pass. And I sure as hell wasn’t going to be the one to stop first. 

“I think that you’re too smart to be so stupid,” I muttered against his skin. I could feel him shaking with laughter as he finally broke apart to look down at me.

“Stupid?”

“Reckless. You’re eighteen. You’re too young to be making decisions that affect the entire rest of your life.” With my plea, I could feel myself starting to sober up and the warmth that had been filling the air between us was stunted. 

“I know about your Dad, Katniss,” Peeta started, his tone soft with an attempt of reassurance. It was the same voice I’d heard him use for children who cried over dropped cookies, or when Delly Cartwright forgot her presidential speech in front of the whole school. 

I looked up to the sad smile I knew he was wearing, and his wide, blue eyes bored into mine as he let out a heavy exhale before bringing an arm up to my shoulder. I shrugged away from him before his fingertips could hardly caress me and took a dizzying step back. 

“I can’t pretend to relate to what you went through with your father. But he died a  _ hero--” _

“He died in a war about nothing,” I interrupted with defiance, his ignorant comment sparking a nerve. It’d been a long six years since I’d had this conversation. Most everyone knew it was one I avoided if possible, but tonight everything was bubbling to the surface. “You’re going to fight in a war about  _ nothing.” _

“This is an honor--” he started, defenses rising as he hid his uncertainty behind a level of offense. 

“You want to know what I really think? ‘No filter’? I think if you need money for art school there’s one hundred other ways to get it.”

“Look, I don’t need you judging me, alright? It’s not as if I exactly have scholarships banging down my door.” The hardness in his tone was short lived, quickly replaced by a softer expression and he sighed deeply in defeat. 

“I’m not looking to fight,” he said in a more neutral tone. When he glanced down at me, I was stricken by how long his pale eyelashes were. “I’ve been trying to talk with you for thirteen years now, but this wasn’t exactly how I had the whole thing planned.”

“We’ve talked before now,” I countered, and Peeta gave me a pointed look.

“You know what I mean, Katniss.” 

I think I did, but it didn’t make any sense. I stared back at him, waiting for the punchline but was met with nothing but seriousness. His lips turned up in an unsure smile that made my chest feel a bit warmer. 

I swallowed another sip of beer, enjoying the buzz I was milking before turning back to him with feigned question in my eye.

“So...how did it go then?”

“Well, I always figured I would start off with a joke or something. You know, make you laugh to ease the inevitable tension brewing between us.”

“Tension?” I quirked an eyebrow and Peeta smirked with an agreeing nod of his head.

“Mostly of the sexual variety. Don’t tell me you haven’t felt it also.” 

My cheeks flamed with his accusation which only caused his smile to increase to a full-blown grin. 

“I…hadn’t noticed.” 

“I thought we put away our filters for the night,” he said in a low voice that encased me. I blinked and he raised a challenging eyebrow, completely disarming me as I snapped my head in the other direction.

“And then?” I pressed, moving on. Peeta tilted my chin up to look at him and when I could avoid his eyes no longer, I settled in on them, inhaling sharply at their steadiness even through the blackness stretched in the sky. 

“Then, I sort of thought we’d do more than talk.” 

“That’s a bit of a cocky assumption,” I muttered, pulling back a little as his head dropped down closer to mine. His eyelids fluttered before he bit the corner of his lip with a shake of his head. 

“Not cocky,” he promised. “You can never be too confident in a fantasy. But this is real life, and in real life it takes thirteen years and four beers to say I want to kiss you.” 

I swallowed heavily as his hesitant eyes trailed down over my neck before flitting back up to meet mine again.

“Will you allow it?”

I blinked, which apparently was enough because seconds later his lips were on mine. I inhaled sharply at the new sensation, completely frozen as his warmth fanned over me. His lips were soft and full and when he pressed them a little harder against mine, I returned the action.

Peeta pushed me back against the large pile of slag, his hands snaking around my back to hold our bodies close as he deepened the kiss. I could faintly taste the alcohol on his breath but instead of providing a warning, it only made my body buzz. 

If it weren’t for oxygen, I don’t think he would’ve ever pulled back. His lips were swollen and my face was burning when he stared down at me with a mixture of awe and what felt like lust. I certainly felt the latter.

“This party is lame,” he whispered, tipping his head back towards the oblivious crowd of people behind us. 

“It’s  _ your _ party,” I replied. When he eyed me curiously, I couldn’t help the giggle that escaped me without consent. “If it sucks, it’s your fault.” 

“Wow, okay.” I heard rather than saw him snicker. The sky was pitch black with the moon only a faint sliver and no stars in sight. The bonfire, which had grown in the past half hour or so, created shadows over the side of his face even from a distance but it wasn’t enough to illuminate him fully. 

“I’m just being honest,” I said with a shrug. 

“I see that.” He clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Let’s bail, then.”

“Bail?” I repeated, twisting my head in the general direction of where I parked, though I couldn’t exactly be trusted at that moment. Everything was kind of blurring together and the parking lot was hard to distinguish around the mounds of slag and spinning people. 

“Yeah, let’s get out of here.”

“You can’t leave your own party.”

“I’m leaving Panem in less than forty-eight hours, Katniss,” Peeta reminded me, bringing his face so close to mine I could taste him when I inhaled. “I can do whatever I want. You coming?”

He led me through a winding maze of cars further away from everyone else until we were in front of his old, rusted Mustang. He shuffled through his back pocket for the keys before unlocking it and holding the door open for me to climb in. 

He started the engine, but made no move to leave before turning back to me with a sheepish expression.

“Probably should wait a little longer to drive.” 

_ Right. _ The world was still a little bit shifty. 

I leaned back against the worn interior as a pleasant gust of cool air tickled my face. Even with my eyes shut, I could feel Peeta’s stare focused on me. When I chanced a look in his direction, he smiled.

“So all it took to get your attention was the threat of leaving, then?” he inquired, shifting his body a little in my direction. “I would’ve joined the army years ago.” 

I glared in his direction and he bit the corner of his lip.

“Too soon?”

“I’m still banking on convincing you to stay.”

“And just how are you planning on doing that?” 

I knew there was a high chance it was the alcohol speaking, and maybe I could use that as an excuse later, but the only thing I could think of at that moment was his lips and feeling them on mine again. The soft supple texture of them, looking good enough to suck on.

Time, and the fact that Peeta had so little of it, played no factor. It wasn’t about proving a point or making up for lost time. But rather just seizing the moment we were in currently, before it was too late.

Peeta inhaled sharply, taken aback by the suddenness of my lips on his again as I leaned over the center console to meet him. I braced myself against his shoulders for support as I found to find the same level of dominance and control he’d held over me earlier. 

He snaked a hand through my hair, allowing me to guide him as my tongue danced across his puffy lower lip and he granted me access. I pulled back just enough so that our noses brushed and looked to the backseat, but it was long enough for realization to dawn on Peeta.

“You...want to get out of here?” he asked, breathless. His normally sky blue eyes were dark with lust, an intense feeling of hunger I couldn’t remember feeling before that moment.

On the other side of the slag, there was laughter and the crackling light of sparklers flaring--a reminder that we weren’t actually alone.

Yeah, I wanted to get out of there. 

I nodded silently, not trusting myself to speak, and Peeta swallowed hard before matching the movement of his own head.

“I...can’t exactly take you to my house,” he laughed, awkwardly. And no, I guess he couldn’t. They might have been okay with sending their son off to war, but bringing a girl home was absolutely out of the question. Ridiculous. 

“That’s okay.” I leaned back in my seat, suddenly feeling foolish. “Maybe...this wasn’t the best idea.”

“Wait, I got an idea.” He swallowed a mouthful of water from the bottle in his cup holder and started the engine up. 

It was reckless and made absolutely no sense, but I was willing to go wherever Peeta was up for taking me. 

I watched the stars twinkle in the sky out the open window as Peeta cruised down the empty streets of Panem, to the outskirts of town where the fields rolled on endlessly. Soft rock played in the background, a tune Peeta tapped out on his steering wheel as he drove before suddenly veering to the right. 

There was a small rest stop, with nothing but gravel and an old guard rail that looked ready to break apart at the slightest pressure. On the other side of it, was nothing but a cliff, and further down a thin body of water that extended the distance. 

“What are we doing?” I asked when Peeta twisted his key out and turned the car off. Enjoying the landscape was not exactly what I had in mind when I said I wanted to leave the party. 

“Come look.” 

I followed him, pushing myself up onto the hood of his car under his guidance, and settling in next to him as he laid comfortably back against the windshield.

“Cool, huh?” he asked. 

It felt like the sky would stretch on for miles. Crickets chirped in the distance and the tree above us rustled with a light summer breeze. 

“Beautiful,” I whispered, and Peeta smiled, pleased.

“One night, when I was real mad,” he began, sheepishly, “I got in my car and started drivin’. Stopped here and to kick dirt around and curse...let off some steam. Finally took a minute to stop and look around.”

“...And?”

“And it reminded me that there’s still a lot to be thankful for in this world. Come here sometimes when I need that reminder.”

“What were you mad about?”

“Ah,” he sighed, brushing the question off with a wave of his hand. “Doesn’t matter now.”

“Why? Because you’re leaving in 48 hours?”

“Actually, I’m leaving in about 35 hours, but that’s beside the point,” he teased, making me roll my eyes. “It’s not important because I’m finally spending an evening with Katniss Everdeen and I don’t want to talk about being mad.”

“What do you want to talk about?”

“I’d rather not talk at all,” he admitted, raising an eyebrow. When I chuckled, he rolled onto his side, closer to me, and placed a hand on my hip.

“Fair enough.”

We kissed under an audience of stars, our passion growing more intense until finally Peeta climbed down from on top of the hood and held a hand out for me to follow him to the backseat of the Mustang.

“What a gentleman,” I chuckled, climbing in before falling down with my back against the leather and Peeta chest above mine, middle resting in between my parted legs.

“We’re in the backseat of my car,” he breathed, amused. “This is hardly good manners.”

“Roll with it.”

We were too long, and our bottom halves were cramped in an effort to compensate for the lack of space. But when Peeta pushed my hair out of my eyes, and when I pulled at the roots of his in return, he sang my name like a praise.

I’d never had sex before, and in the past when I thought about my first time, it never involved the backseat of a Mustang. Or Peeta Mellark. 

He was gentle, guiding himself in past my slick entrance slowly while holding my gaze. My eyes pinched shut as I took in his full length, and when he moaned I involuntarily clenched around him. 

“Katniss,” he breathed hard as his passes became more frequent. I arched my back up off the seat and he slipped a hand underneath it, holding me closer against him as he craned his neck down to kiss and suck at my breasts.

“I’m close,” he warned and it was only then that I couldn’t remember if he’d remembered to use a condom or not. I didn’t think I’d seen him open up any sort of packaging, but then again  _ it was so dark.  _

My hands clenched around his back harder, digging my nails into his skin as his thrusts became faster and more shallow. With a loud cry he slipped out from inside of me all together, pumping himself furiously as thick spurts of his come littered my belly. I watched his body jerked and spasmed with the release before his head tilted forward and he let out a deep sigh.

“Shit.”

I ran a hand over his arm, unsure of what else I could do and Peeta exhaled once more through his nose before turning back to me. He looked abashed in the pale moonlight, scratching the back of his neck as he cleaned my skin off with a napkin. 

“I didn’t mean for it to end so fast,” he grumbled self-consciously as he took the garbage from me, disposing it somewhere I couldn’t see.

“It didn’t seem fast,” I assured him, though it didn’t seem to help much. I started to sit up when he pushed me back down with one of his hands against my shoulder and shook his head in disagreement.

“Lay back,” he commanded, sliding his body down to the other end of the seat and spreading my legs wide on either side of him. “Let me make it up to you.”

He dipped his head down between my legs, refusing to come up until he’d thoroughly  _ made it up to me. _

* * *

It wasn’t enough. 

My pleas, my anger, even my virginity hadn’t kept Peeta Mellark in Virginia. Thirty-four hours later, I was standing among the close friends who’d all come to send him off. 

His family was there too, of course. Mr. and Mrs. Mellark, his oldest brother Bannock with his wife Olivia and their daughter, and his other brother Rye, who was just one year older than us.

The atmosphere was tense, ominous sky thick with dark clouds hinting at the inevitable threat of rain, and occasionally the low grumble of thunder made itself present. 

Madge and Delly made a  _ Hometown Hero  _ sign, and his niece, Matilda, cried with the realization that ‘Uncle Peeta’ was leaving for a long time. Peeta was uncharacteristically serious, too, but still managed to effectively eased the tension with one of his jokes. 

Almost everyone laughed, trying to pretend it was goodbye for a different reason, but Mrs. Mellark didn’t so much as crack a smile. I hadn’t seen her do so in weeks.Not that she’d ever been a particularly warm individual, but her hard exterior had been made of rocks since graduation. 

“I need to get going if I’m going to make it through Arkansas tonight,” he said begrudgingly. Bannock smacked him hard on the back, wrapping him up into a bear hug for the last time. 

He made his way around the small circle of smiling and tear-filled faces until I saw his heavy double-knotted boots land in front of me. He was already dressed in a pair of his issued uniform pants and a gray shirt with the bold word:  **ARMY** printed across it. 

He took off his camouflage cap that helped to shield the sun from his eyes but also left him with a terrible case of hat hair and smiled down at me as I attempted to fluff the matted curls.

“Hey. Thanks for helping me make up for lost time,” he whispered, voice low enough to not carry to the prying eyes around us. 

His words stung.  _ Yeah, thanks. _ I shrugged, trying to convince myself that I truly felt as indifferent about our night together as he apparently did. 

I was mad, fuming, but I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of begging him to stay or something stupid like that. I would just spend the next two years praying the next time I saw him he wouldn’t be in a body bag.

“You made these last few days amazing,” he promised when I said nothing. Then, he tried to push my hair out of my face and I turned in the opposite direction of him. He huffed a loud breath and I folded my arms.

“Katniss. Is this how you want to say goodbye?”

I didn’t reply, because I couldn’t explain to him that I didn’t want to say goodbye at all.

“Katniss.”

“No,” I finally admitted, forcing my gaze up to meet his. “It’s not how I want to say goodbye.” 

He gifted me a crooked smile, fiddling nervously with the cap in his hands before leaning in and pressing his lips to mine.

“Sorry,” he said, though he hardly looked it. “I needed one more as a keepsake.”

He placed his cap down on top of my head, insisting that he would be given another when I began to protest, and looked past me with one more smile towards his family.

He honked the horn of his old car as he waved goodbye, driving down the dead street before turning onto the main road.

And then he was gone.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I'm not nor have I ever been in the army. Though I try my best to do as much research as possible on subjects I'm not familiar with, there is a limit. That being said, this is a fictional story with fictional characters and things may not be 100% accurate. Thank you.

I groaned into my pillow, barely cracking an eye open when my phone began to vibrate, lighting up an otherwise dark bedroom. I reached a hand out, blindly fumbling for my glasses but the stupid thing wouldn’t shut up until I finally swiped a thumb across the bottom of the screen, accepting the call.

“Mmm...llo?” I mumbled, voice groggy with sleep. I held it over my ear, closing my eyes again as my body stayed molded to the mattress. The answering chuckle on the other end was enough to perk me up some.

“Hey there, sleepyhead.”

“Peeta,” I greeted with a yawn, and it took clearing my voice twice for it to sound feminine again. “In my defense, it’s two in the morning.”

“Shit,” he replied. Wherever he was, it sounded loud. Music and other voices were muffled through the receiver behind him. “I’m sorry, Kat. I keep forgetting about the time difference. Only midnight here.”

“Don’t you have a curfew?”

“Sure will, come Monday when camp starts. I went out with a couple of the boys tonight.” 

So, that explained it then. I was sure that  _ went out _ was code for drinking and that was the only reason for my late night phone call. I couldn’t fault him, that was how things started between us, after all. A few drinks and suddenly I was in the back of a Mustang with his head between my legs. 

“Are you drunk?” I needed to know. Four days had passed since Peeta left for El Paso, and I hadn’t heard anything from him since. It was only thanks to social media that I even knew he’d made it to Texas. He posted a picture--his first in months--of a massive cheeseburger with an American flag poking out the center of the grilled bun, caption reading:  _ It’s true what they say about Texas _ .  _ #massiveburger  _

“No?” he said, and the way his voice tilted up a bit at the end made it sound like a question. “I’m callin’ because...well. I was hopin’ to talk with you.”

“That’s what we’re doing right now,” I reminded him. I’d successfully located my glasses, slipping them over my face as I flipped on the light next to me, wide awake.

“Right.” He chuckled, the sound low, like it might’ve not been meant for me. “Look. I realize the other night might’ve been a one time deal for you. We’d both been drinking, I was leavin'…” His voice trailed, not off to the best start. 

“Mhm.”

“But, I wasn’t bullshitting you when I said I’d been thinkin’ about you that way for years.” 

My heart rate sped up at his admission, and the hesitancy I heard in his tone of voice. 

“I know it’s a long shot, and that you probably have zero desire to be in a long distance relationship with a soldier, but I think this is worth a shot if you do. I get to come home for the holidays and I can call or FaceTime in the evenings. Or, I don’t know, write. If you wanted.”

“You’ve really thought this through,” I couldn’t help but tease him, biting the corner of my lip as I listened to him tick off all of our communication pathways. 

“Only once or twice,” he replied, jest evident in his tone. “There’s a base right in Norfolk, too. Chances are I’ll be stationed somewhere in the states for a while and you can visit. Or--”

“Peeta,” I interrupted, because there truly was no telling how much longer his rant would last if I didn’t stop him. He inhaled at the sound of his name on my lips and the line went deadly quiet on his end. “This is insane.”

It was harsh, but someone needed to be the voice of reason. 

“Yeah,” he sighed, almost defeated. I could almost picture him on the other end of the phone, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck as he shook his head. “Yeah, maybe. But I’m not ready to go years before I talk to you again, Katniss.”

I fiddled with a singular curl. Practically all of my hair had come loose from the braid I’d had it in last night before I fell asleep. I could only imagine how insane I looked and was glad that this was only a voice call.

“What do you think?” he pressed, and I could hear the nervous edge to his question. 

I cursed silently for the way my heart started to beat quicker with his confession, all of the plans he’d concocted. But, it didn’t stop the stupid smile from finding its way to my lips.

A loud noise sounded in the background from Peeta’s end, and he grunted an apology before it got much quieter. I wondered if he stepped outside to finish the call.

“Yeah,” I said, after he finished apologizing for the noise. 

“Yeah…?” he trailed off, not daring to celebrate too soon. I nodded, even though he couldn’t see me through the phone, and then chuckled.

“Okay. Let’s do it.” 

* * *

As summer turned to fall, my relationship with Peeta continued to grow. 

Staying true to his word, we video chatted a few times a week and he called me on the phone practically daily.

I learned a lot about El Paso Texas, and probably more than I cared to know about military training. It was difficult not to dispute him sometimes, but I did a good job of holding my tongue and tried my best to be a supportive listening ear to whatever he decided to share with me.

I’d met a lot of his new buddies, too. There was Finnick Odair, his  _ cool, older _ friend who was the ripe age of twenty-two. He taught Peeta how to swallow shots without a chaser and catch multiple fish on the piece of bait during their seldom down time on the weekends. He was from the deep south, Mississippi and charming as such, calling me ma’am and flashing a dazzling smile each time we had the pleasure of speaking.

Thresh Brookes, from Tennessee, was a quiet and brooding force. Big in every way, from his thick roped muscles to his imposing height. He looked like he could snap me in half with his thighs alone, which made it all the more amusing that he was one of the quieter, more shy privates.

Cressida and Johanna made up the rest of his close-knit crew. I liked Cressida, even if she was a bit intimidating. Her naturally hard face had softened over the weeks of mine and Peeta’s conversations, and she saved Peeta’s ass once during an obstacle course. So he said. My gut told me she was trustworthy.

Johanna, not so much. She liked to walk around in her free time braless with only a skimpy tank top to cover her petite but perky chest. Some of the off colored comments she made in the background had me worried she might try to warm Peeta’s bed in my absence. It wasn’t like we’d had a long and detailed history together…

When Peeta noticed my concern, and we talked about it, he was quick to reassure me that nothing would ever happen with  _ Johanna. _

“She’s not my type.”

_ “Hot  _ isn’t your type?” I countered, challenging him to dispute.

“My type is badass in a bit of a...softer way.” He chose his words carefully, winking at me through the screen and laughing when I rolled my eyes. “Besides, if anyone should feel threatened it’s me. Only reason she hangs around during our calls is because she thinks  _ you’re  _ cute.”

I flushed fiercely at his admission.

His friends had become a strange but intricate part of my life. I came to view them almost as my friends by extension of him, because I had heard so much about them. In return, I kept Peeta as up-to-date as possible with the happenings of Panem, his family and the bakery. 

I’d spent more time in the company of Mellark's over the past two months than I had in my eighteen years of growing up living just down the road from them. Mostly, my conversations with Mr. and Mrs. Mellark weren’t anything special, just small talk about their son, but Mr. Mellark always sent me off with a loaf of bread and some cookies for Prim, which made me smile. Like his own way of acceptance. 

“I can’t believe it’s already October,” Peeta commented, leaning back against the wall his bed laid against.   


“I know. Time has flown.”

“Thank god for that.” His hair was different now, shorter. They’d cut it first thing when he arrived on the base and he’d been buzzing it himself ever since. A shocking contrast to his floppy, boyish curls, that made him look older and more masculine. Gruffer. Of course, the growing muscle mass he’d been accumulating over the course of his training did well to help his manly appearance, too. 

“Just a few more weeks until I get to come home.”

“A few?” I snorted, and Peeta’s lips twitched up into a small smile. “Try ten.”

“Are you counting them down, Everdeen?” he asked, with mock sweetness in his voice as he batted his long eyelashes. 

“No, Prim,” I corrected him, with an air of defiance. He didn’t need to know that I had the date of his return saved in my phone’s calendar. “She has a countdown to Christmas.”

He chuckled, running a hand over his short hair.

“We’ll get to spend Christmas together,” he commented, happily. “And New Years.”

“Yeah.” 

Peeta’s initial training was coming to an end. His group would continue living in El Paso until after the holidays when they’d receive their assigned bases, scattered throughout the states. 

I’d given up on praying for Peeta to be assigned Norfolk. It was too much to wish for. I’d be happy if he was located anywhere along the east coast, at that point. 

“I’ll call after the ceremony,” Peeta promised, excitement palpable in his tone. Tomorrow, he officially graduated boot camp and would be receiving his gear and pin from the reserve. His entire family was set to drive down and be in attendance for the milestone, a fact I knew he was pleasantly surprised about. 

“Okay,” I said, cupping my palm over the top of my brow as I stepped outside into the harsh sunlight. “Congratulations, again.”

“Thanks, Katniss. Talk with you soon.” When the line went dead, I stuffed my phone down into the back pocket of my jeans and walked down the drive to meet Rye. He slung a bag into the trunk of his car before letting it shut noisily and dusted his hands off with a sigh of exertion. When he noticed me leaning against the side of the vehicle, his tired, turned down lips stretched up into a wide grin. 

“He’s gonna lose it when he sees you. Then, probably kill me for keeping it a secret.” 

“Thanks again for letting me come,” I said, knotting my hands together a little shyly. I didn’t really know Rye all that well, only through the brief conversations we shared over the years, and I’d be lying if I didn’t say that the idea of taking a twenty-two hour road trip with him put me on edge. But, I really, really wanted to surprise Peeta. 

“It’s no problem,” he promised, brushing me off with a wave of his hand. “I would’ve gotten bored riding down alone, anyways. And no way in hell was I spending nearly a day locked in a vehicle with my parents or Bannock and his crying kid. Bless her heart, I love her, but I have my limits.” 

I chuckled, sticking my hands down into the front pockets of my shorts before the one came to fist around a folded up bill.

“Oh, I brought gas money with me.” I pushed the offering in his direction, hoping it was enough but shrinking back a little when I noticed his scrutinizing look. 

“I’m not taking your money,” he scoffed, pushing past my outstretched hand and to the drivers side of the car. “We’re practically siblings now. Save your pennies for something useful, like food, because trust me--we’re gonna eat.”

I stared at him, blinking before he turned back with a lazy smile, motioning to the other side of the car for me to get in.

“You’re not a vegetarian, are you?”

“Er, no?”

“Good, because that wouldn’t work for what I’ve got in mind.”

The windows were rolled down and speakers turned up as he peeled out of the driveway, heading for the highway with a shake of his head, muttering something beneath his breath about  _ gas money. _

+++

Rye Mellark was into rap music. The newfound information was both amusing and annoying as it blared through his sound system all the way through both of the Carolina's, Georgia, and half of Alabama. 

It seemed that our route had been entirely based around food pit stops. In theory, it was a great plan. There hadn’t been a single place we stopped at that wasn’t delicious, but by the time Rye pulled into a barbecue joint in Birmingham, my stomach was already about to explode. 

“You don’t like it?” Rye asked, looking up from his ribs when he noticed that I wasn’t really eating. I took a small bite of beans before digging the fork back down to the bottom of the small bowl.

“It’s delicious. I just think I’ve eaten my weight in food today.”

He laughed, wiping some sauce from his lip and then his hands. 

“Sorry. I guess I didn’t really take it into consideration that you’re a peanut. I’m usually taking these types of trips with Peeta.”

“Nothing to be sorry for,” I promised. I’d just get a box and eat it for lunch tomorrow, even though Rye probably had an entirely new itinerary set for then. 

He jokingly loosened a buckle of his belt and I tilted back in my chair, entirely stuffed. 

“We should probably hit the road. Still have a few hours before we make it to our pit stop for the night.”

I nodded, putting cash down on the table for tip before grabbing my leftovers and following Rye out of the restaurant. 

The sky had turned crimson as night was fast approaching and the low hanging sun glared at us through the windshield. I put the visor above my seat down, leaning back into the bucket seat of Rye’s car, and had practically lulled to sleep in the absence of conversation before Rye startled me back awake.

“So,” he started, casting a wicked look in my direction. “Do you and Peeta have like...internet sex or something?” 

I nearly choked on my gum, sputtering a series of coughs as Rye continued down the deserted highway, unaffected. I glared at him and he raised an eyebrow, still waiting for an answer.

“Just asking,” he snickered with a defensive shrug. “Because, look. I know if it were me, I wouldn’t make it all this time without a little action on the side. You know what I mean?”

I groaned, rubbing the bridge of my nose because I knew exactly what he meant and it wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have. I shifted in my chair, uncomfortably and tried busy myself by looking out the window. Rye on the other hand, was thoroughly amused.

“Well, Peeta isn’t you,” I retorted.

“He’s my brother,” Rye countered. “I know better than anyone else how long that kid’s been in love with your scrawny ass. So, it wouldn’t surprise me at all if he was begging for a little cyber pussy to get him through.”

“What?” I turned to face him more fully. 

“Oh, don’t act like you’ve never heard that word.”

“No.  _ No.”  _ I shook my head. “Did you say he loves me?”

His eyes widened, like he was caught between a rock and a hard place and he ran a hand over the back of his neck a little guiltily.

“Well, yeah. I mean, kind of.”

“Kind of?”

“Don’t look so shocked,” he scoffed. “It’s not rocket science. But, play it cool, okay? He’d kill me if he knew I was talking about this stuff.” 

The sky had turned dark with incredible speed, painting royal blue shadows along the ceiling of the car as I leaned back in my seat, stewing over Rye’s confession. 

He cranked the music up a little higher and I turned on my side to face the window, glad for the darkness which concealed my smile. 

* * *

We didn’t arrive in El Paso until the morning of graduation, just a few hours behind the rest of the Mellark’s.

Their head start allowed them the opportunity to sneak in a few moments with Peeta before he had to start getting ready for the ceremony, a fact I tried not to be jealous of. Or blame Rye for. But, it was an undeniable fact that stopping at an all you can eat waffle house had slowed us down dramatically.

The Mellark’s swore up and down that Peeta had no idea I was coming, but I didn’t entirely believe them until I saw the text from him, wishing that I was there. 

**Me (1:23pm):** I’ll see you tonight. We’ll FaceTime.

_ Peeta (1:24pm):  _ Not the same, but I’ll take it.

I smiled to myself, giddy to have gotten away with such a surprise as I sat down between Rye and Mrs. Mellark on a bench reserved for family. 

**Me (1:25pm):** Aren’t you supposed to be graduating? Stop texting, soldier!

_ Peeta (1:26pm):  _ Ma’am yes, ma’am.

**Me (1:27pm):** Ma’am? I could get used to that…

_ Peeta (1:28pm):  _ Lol.

**Me (1:28pm):** Go graduate. I’ll talk to you later.

I shut my phone off before he could message me again, sticking it into my purse before clutching it tightly to me, eager for the program to begin. 

As soldiers began marching in, chanting the  _ Soldiers Creed _ , I craned my neck to find Peeta in the sea of unity. All wearing the same uniform, with the same hat covering their same shaved heads...he blended in rather well with the majority of recruits. 

“Do you see him?” Rye leaned in to mutter, smiling when I shook my head. “Good, me neither.”

After speeches, an introduction to all of the drill sergeants and the enlistment oath, they were ready to receive their certificates of completion.

I knew the moment Peeta saw me there with his family. His name was called and he took deliberate, stiff steps up to the platform to receive his diploma. When he turned out to the audience and smiled, his eyes settled on the row of Mellark’s and then to me. 

Confusion flashed in his blue orbs, just as the photographer took his picture. Peeta looked past him, squinting a little, like he couldn’t entirely trust himself to be seeing correctly. When I offered a small wave, he smiled brightly, flashing all of his teeth before exiting the stage along with the other soldiers. 

Through the remainder of the ceremony, I’d catch him sneaking coy glances back at me before quickly turning forward again, not wanting to get in trouble. As soon as it ended though, and soldiers were free to visit with friends and family, Peeta came over and swept me up off of the ground. 

I let out a surprised noise, clutching his strong shoulders as he spun me around before placing a long kiss against my lips.

“How did you---how are you--?” he stammered, unable to finish a sentence. I shrugged my shoulders, barely suppressing my excitement. 

“Surprised?”

“Completely.” 

“She drove down with me,” Rye filled him in, slinging an arm around his brother and giving him a tight hug before the rest of the Mellark’s lined up to do the same. 

“It was interesting.”

“You had fun, admit it.”

I laughed and Peeta wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me in closer to him.

“You subjected yourself to my brother's insane driving and incessant food stops for me?” he asked, low against my ear. 

“Worth it.”

He leaned in, giving me another coveted kiss and I felt my eyes flutter closed.

“I’m guessing this ain’t your sister.” 

I recognized the voice immediately, from all of mine and Peeta’s calls, and wasn’t at all surprised to find Finnick Odair standing beside us when our lips pulled apart. Next to him was Thresh Brookes, another one of the close friends Peeta had made during his time in Texas. 

“Guys, this is Katniss,” Peeta introduced me, beaming smile on his face.

“It’s nice to meet you all face to face,” I said, extending my hand out. Thresh shook it, giving me a reserved but friendly smile, but Finnick ignored it entirely, opting to pull me into his arms for a hug instead.

“Oh,” I grunted, surprised when he gave me a tight squeeze before releasing. 

“Katniss Everdeen. You’re even lovelier in person.”

Heat crept up my cheeks as his sea-green eyes bored into me and his lips turned up handsomely. Yeah, I could only imagine the kind of trouble he got into on the reserve.

“I’ve heard so much about you guys.”

“Trust me, we’ve heard about you, too.”

“Good things,” Thresh interjected.

“Yep. Your name has been heavily featured in the showers and one of the core causes for us running out of warm water, if you catch my drift.” Just in case I didn’t, he pumped his hand up and down in front of his groin, and Peeta turned ten different shades of red. 

I was just thankful Mr. and Mrs. Mellark were out of earshot.

“Thank you for that, Finnick. Truly,” Peeta muttered, unable to help smiling when his friend burst out laughing.

“I have to mess with you. Seriously though, it was great meeting you, Katniss. When are you going back home?”

“Tomorrow.” I hated to think about leaving already, when Peeta and I had only just seen each other for the first time ten minutes ago, but the thought of him coming home for Christmas did well to starve off any feelings of sadness that welled up. 

“Do you kids have plans tonight?”

“Just visiting with my family,” Peeta answered. “We’ll probably do dinner.” 

“Cool. If you want to hang out after, meet us at the bar for some pool or something.”

Peeta took us to his favorite BBQ joint in El Paso. It smelled delicious and was packed tight with customers, but after forty-eight hours of practically non-stop eating and jitters, my appetite was shot. 

Peeta noticed the way I shuffled my food around on the plate with a fork and finished chewing his food.

“You want to meet up with everyone in a bit?” he whispered to me when the rest of his family was distracted talking. “Or...spend some time together by ourselves?”

His offer sent a shiver down my spine and a fresh set of butterflies to pool in my stomach. I was desperate to have him all to myself even if it was only for one night. But, it was good to get to know his friends. These were the people he had spent practically every waking moment with for the last six weeks. It was likely that even if they weren’t assigned on the same teams or units in the future, they’d remain good friends. If Peeta and I had a future together, they were people I needed to get to know and become friends with too.

“Can we do both?” I asked and Peeta smiled around the neck of his beer bottle. 

“Sure, darlin’.”

Finnick, Thresh and the rest of Peeta’s ragtag group that I hadn’t met in person yet were already at the bar when we arrived. Two practically empty pitchers of beer sat on a table adjacent to them as they crowded around the pool table in the middle of a game. 

“Hey, you showed.”

“We were pretty sure we were getting stood up tonight,” Cressida admitted, looking over her shoulder at us. She wore a flowy tank top that showed off the tattoos that covered her arms and snaked down her shoulder blade onto her back. The way she wore her long blonde hair in a french braid that went down the length of her back did well to accentuate the shaved sides of her scalp. When her oval eyes met mine, she smiled. “With good reason.”

“Figured we could play a few games,” Peeta replied, grabbing a stick and rubbing chalk on the tip of it. “Cressida, Johanna...this is my girlfriend Katniss and my brother, Rye.”

“Oh, you brought us a treat,” Cressida said, eyeing Rye. “Hi, handsome.”

“Handsome?” Peeta sputtered. “You never called me handsome.”

Cressida shrugged her shoulders, unapologetically.

“We’re siblings,” he argued, good-naturedly.

“What can I say? I like the older model.”

“Cressida, stop flirting and shoot. It’s your turn,” Johanna barked, walking around the pool table towards us. She was clad in just a black sports bra and jean shorts and seemed amused by my discomfort. 

“We’re playing strip pool. Ever played before, Katniss?” 

“No,” I answered, shifting my eyes to play off my growing nerves.

“The rules are pretty easy. Miss a shot, lose an article of clothing.”

“I’m down,” Rye answered, and Johanna smirked.

“I’m sure you are, big guy. What about you, lovebirds? Next game?”

“Sure,” Peeta answered, and when he noticed my widening eyes he leaned in to kiss my nose reassuringly. “Clothing stays on, though. Don’t want to get banned from this place, it’s my favorite.”

“You’re never any fun,” she pouted, leaning against the table. Finnick Odair, who matched Johanna with his shirt flung off on a chair to the side, snickered at her. 

They played nice, and despite the reservations I had about some of the group members, they made Rye and me feel included for the night. 

“Hey...” Peeta’s breath was hot against the back of my exposed neck, his hands snaking to rest on my hips. “Want to get out of here?”

It seemed I was powerless to the question, no matter how many times he asked it.

“Do you have somewhere we can be alone?” I asked, twisting around his arms as my fingers coyly teased the center of his chest. 

“I can threaten my roommates with bodily harm if they come in.”

“Tempting,” I chuckled before leaning up on tiptoes to give him a kiss. “But I have a hotel room. Seems like it might be the more low maintenance option.”

“I like low maintenance.”

“Then let's go.”

Peeta wasted no time getting straight to business the moment the door closed. The desire we’d been starving off all day for one another was finally coming to a head. The tension in the room made the air heady. I let out a sharp noise of surprise when Peeta lifted me over his shoulder, legs flailing, and carried me with one arm over to the bed. 

“Put me down,” I demanded, though the threat was far less intimidating between laughter. He tossed me on the bed, hovering over me before I’d barely hit the mattress and smiled against my lips.

“Whatever you say.” 

“So is what they say true?” I whispered against him. Already I felt the evidence of his arousal against my middle and I couldn’t help rotating my hips a bit to gain some friction. “Did you think about me during your  _ alone _ time?”

“Give me a break, Katniss,” Peeta groaned, only mildly embarrassed to have the topic brought back up. He met my eager thrust and I gasped, heat coursing through me. “You drive me insane. Even from several states away.”

“I thought about you too, you know.” It was an admission I’d be embarrassed about tomorrow morning, but at the moment it only seemed right to confess. 

Peeta seemed surprised, his eyebrows lifting in the darkness, jaw a little slack. He swallowed heavily, Adams apple bobbing and then wet his lips with the tip of his tongue.

“What did you think about me doing?” His voice was hoarse with need, pupils fat as he stared back at me, waiting.

“Touching me.”

“Where?” he breathed and then rolled off of me just slightly. “Show me.”

I sat up a little, just enough to peel my shirt off. Peeta’s hands came to help me remove it and then my bra quickly followed. 

“Here,” I said softly, trailing my hands down the center of my breast bone before I let a finger swirl around my hardening nipple. Peeta watched the movements with baited breath, his chest heaving slightly more than normal. 

“And what was my mouth doing?” 

I showed him, and while he was buried between my legs I had to remind myself to keep from screaming that his brother occupied the room just on the other side of the wall. 

After, we laid in bed. With neither of us daring to waste a moment on sleep, we saw the sun start to peek up through the curtains and knew the repercussions of morning were close. 

I laid with my head resting on Peeta’s chest, listening to the gentle sound of his heartbeat as he ran a hand through my hair, soothingly.

“I don’t want yesterday to be over,” I admitted, after the silence had stretched so long that my voice was strained from disuse. 

“I know,” Peeta agreed quietly. “But, I’ll be home before you know it. Christmas isn’t far away.” 

I leaned up to look at him and then our lips met. 

“I can’t wait.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally, I did not plan to go so long between updates, but as I know you are all very much aware, the real world events we're experiencing right now has kept me pretty distracted. Writing has been a good outlet though so I plan to continue doing it as much as I can, please just be patient with me as it might not be the speed you are used to seeing with other works.
> 
> I hope everyone has a great weekend :) stay healthy and stay safe.


	3. Chapter Three

Peeta almost didn’t make it home for Christmas. 

A freakish storm hit along the entire east coast, directly affecting the path he would be traveling through, including Virginia which was under a severe weather watch until further notice.

Nobody had been too anxious for him to chance driving on slick roads, and with Christmas just three days out, the airports were absolute hell. I clung to the small sliver of hope that by some miracle the roads would clear enough for him to make it, even though odds of that looked bleak.

Peeta and I had been together for six months now and only spent two nights physically in each other's presence. It was ridiculous, but the thing that had gotten me through was knowing that we had this trip to look forward to. It was the only small stretch of time in the near future that we could claim entirely for ourselves, but now even that was being ripped away. 

I was slumped over in one of the plush chairs that decorated the Mellark’s living room. I’d been stranded at their house since mid-afternoon, when Peeta was first set to arrive and have dinner with everyone. Now, the sky was dark and it was the epitome of a winter wonderland outside with little chances of me leaving or Peeta coming.

The Mellark's were into Christmas in a way my family couldn’t afford to be. Garland hung over the fireplace and spun around the staircase railing. There candles scented of cinnamon and a tree in practically every room of the house, the biggest being in the room I currently inhabited, with an elaborate train circling around its massive length. 

Rye walked into the dim room with two mugs of hot chocolate, oozing over with the mound of marshmallows he’d sprinkled on top. He placed the tray between us on the table and fell down onto the couch with a sigh. I tapped the home screen of my phone, just to be irritated when there were still no new messages on it. 

“I know you’re disappointed, Kat,” he murmured, frowning at me with a deep, watchful expression. 

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t have to lie. Not to me.” His half smile was enough to make my heart clench. “I’m disappointed, too.”

I sat up a little straighter and placed one of the miniature marshmallows into my mouth.

“Since when does Panem get four inches of snow?” I muttered, not through pouting. “It’s not fair.” 

“That’s the way life works, sweetheart. It rarely cares about fairness.” 

I scoffed wordlessly and Rye sighed.

“Go to bed, Kat.” He let out a yawn of his own, which was contagious. It was a rather comfortable spot that I’d found myself in. The blanket draped across my lap didn’t help matters, either. But I knew that if I fell asleep and woke up to a house still void of Peeta, it would only make it that much worse.

“I’m not tired,” I argued, stubbornly, raising the steaming mug to my lips. 

“Alright then,” he grunted, reaching over for the remote control. “Pick your poison. _Home Alone_ or _Charlie Brown Christmas?”_

As Charlie’s theme started up on the television, I snuggled deeper into the blanket, thankful that I had Rye at least to keep me company. 

“I’m gonna go make us some popcorn,” he said after a few minutes, never able to sit still. I smirked to myself as he ruffled the top of my head on his way to the kitchen. 

“Salt and butter, please.”

“I know your order, Everdeen.”

He returned with two big bowls, one for each of us so we didn’t have to argue who’s lap it got to sit on, and then he was finally settled in for the movie. 

Somewhere in the middle of _The Grinch_ I lost consciousness, giving into the greater lull of sleep as my heavy eyelids refused to keep open. 

“Katniss.”

I woke to the soft whisper, and a hand gently rubbing the top of my head. I groaned, batting Rye away. He’d wanted me to sleep and then insisted on waking me up the moment I passed out.

“Watch whatever you want to,” I muttered, and then quiet laughter filled the room. Laughter not quite raspy enough to belong to Rye.

I blinked, allowing my eyes to adjust in the darkness and caught Peeta standing just a few inches in front of me. 

“Peeta?” I asked, throwing the blanket off from me. When his lean arms extended, I jumped up from the chair and wound myself around his middle, burying my head against his chest. 

“How did you--? When did you…?” There were a million questions forming in my mind about how he’d made it through on the slick roads and why he hadn’t called and exactly how much time we had together before he was expected to leave again, but I kept my body molded to his instead, inhaling his scent and memorizing the way the material of his shirt felt against my cheek. 

“I really didn’t think you were going to make it,” I murmured. 

He pressed his lips down into my hair, the gesture familiar and comforting. I closed my eyes, reveling in how normal it all felt. 

“I wouldn’t miss it,” he promised in a whisper. “Merry Christmas.”

* * *

It was one of my very favorite Christmases. 

The Mellark family thrived during the holidays. By morning, the whole house smelled of gingerbread with fresh goodies laid out in the kitchen and a constant stream of cheerful music sounding through the house. 

It didn’t feel like Peeta and I were two eighteen year olds, sneaking up into his bedroom with hushed giggles the night of his arrival. Maybe it was because he looked and seemed so much older, and  _ bigger _ than he had been the last time he was in Panem. Or because it was surreal to think that just last year we were children, sitting behind desks in high school and now he was trained in multiple forms of combat. 

No matter, I still appreciated that the Mellarks did not seem to mind our impromptu sleeping arrangement. Even on Christmas Eve morning, when it was going on ten o’clock and there was a buzz of excitement that could be heard happening downstairs, we lounged in bed, uninterrupted.

Despite the time I'd spent at the Mellark's house over the past few months, I'd never been in Peeta's room before. It wasn't far off from what I pictured, though. Bare walls, void of decoration and a painted neutral and soothing blue. Dresser top decorated with wrestling trophies and metals that he despised.  He groaned at the mere mention of them.

“What?” I asked, idly running my fingertips up and down the length of his chest. “You’re too good for that now?”

“No. It just seems...childish. Sleeping in the same bed as my girlfriend with my high school wrestling trophies out.”

“I went to one of your matches, you know,” I whispered, and now I had his attention. His head shifted towards me on the pillow and I could feel the intensity of his stare above me.

“You did?”

I nodded.

“Junior year. Madge asked me to go with her and I put up a fuss but…” I trailed off, noting the light flush his pale skin had taken on with the conversation. When I chanced a look up, his gaze was riveted on mine.

“But?”

“I was embarrassed by how difficult it was to take my eyes off of you.”

“Oh yeah?” He was smirking now, at the admission.

“Yeah,” I sighed, rolling over onto my stomach so I could look at him more fully. “That little leotard you had to wear--”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he said, cutting me off. “It was not a  _ leotard.  _ It’s called a singlet.” 

“It looked like a leotard from where I was sitting.”

“Katniss,” he groaned, chuckling a little to himself. “Leave me some dignity.”

“What? Leotard, singlet...either way, it left little to the imagination and I had a _very_ active one…” 

My sentence broke off with a gasp as I was turned to lie flat on my back with Peeta’s massive body towering over the top of mine. He had my hands pinned against the soft sheets, his hips resting between my parted legs in a way that caused my breath to stutter.

“You want to wrestle?” he breathed, close to my skin.

And yes. Yes, I did.  _ Fuck yes. _ But…

“We should go downstairs,” I whispered, the words halted and frustrated as they passed my lips. I could hear Matilda's little feet running around downstairs, her loud toddler shrill vibrating off of the walls. 

“Your family is all here.” 

Peeta’s head fell to the crook of my neck, trailing kisses up the smooth expanse of skin that led up to my ear. When I moaned, I felt his smile and knew that he thought he had won. 

“You don’t play fair.”

“I’m not ready to leave yet.”

“I can’t be selfish and keep you all to myself,” I scolded, trying and failing to knot my hands through his hair. It was too short, and they came up empty, so I settled for just stroking the short pieces by the nape of his neck.

“Why not?” he challenged, eyes mischievous as he craned his head back to look at me. “Come on, Katniss. Just ten...minutes...more…”

Each word was punctuated by a kiss, the last of which was long and languid making my skin burn and insides bubble as I melted into his embrace. 

His hips shifted above me, and the weight of his obvious erection ground into my center as we continued to kiss. I reached down between our bodies, fully accepting his offer of  _ ten more minutes  _ as I found his hard flesh and glided my hand over it with ease. I could feel the veins beneath thin skin jump and when his whole body twitched and went rigid when I twisted my palm around the tip. 

“That’s...really good, Katniss,” he said hoarsely, encouraging me as he pulled my shirt up a little and started to tease one of my nipples, swirling his thumb around the sensitive peak. 

I leaned back, reaching out with my free hand for the box of condoms that laid casually out on top of his nightstand from yesterday and grabbed a wrapper. 

He ripped it open quickly, and we eased it over him together before sighing as he slipped into me. I clenched around him, still needing to adjust to his wide girth as he started a comfortable and steady pace. 

My short fingernails dug into his skin as he thrust above me, every muscle in his body tense with the effort. Our eyes were locked on each other as the speed of our ragged breathing increased. 

“Peeta,” I gasped, arching my back as he found my clit and began to stroke it gently in time with his hips. His dark eyes grew more lidded with the sound of his name on my lips, and he nipped at my skin lightly. 

“I’m close,” I whispered, twisting my head down into the pillow as the inevitable high started to creep up on me. I could feel a ball of warmth in my stomach, spreading through me like electric current before exploding.

Peeta kissed me to silence my cries and our lips stayed locked together even after I felt him twitching and pulsating inside of me with his own orgasm. 

“I’ve officially decided,” he stopped, swallowed, and then continued to speak between uneven pants.“that I’m not leaving this bedroom.”

I chuckled as he slipped out of me and turned to cleaned himself up. My skin was sticky despite the cool air coming from the slightly cracked window. After a full night of doing activities far from sleeping, I felt the need to take a shower before entertaining the possibility of going downstairs. 

Peeta felt the same need, jumping into the hot steam not five minutes after me. He ran his smooth hands down my soapy body with a lazy smile.

“Funny meeting you here.” he whispered into the shell of my ear and I smirked, leaning back against him. 

+++

It was quarter to noon before Peeta and I made an appearance downstairs. Rye shot a knowing look between us, while Mr. Mellark refused to make eye contact at all. When Mrs. Mellark started talking about gingerbread, Peeta and I readily followed into the kitchen for samples. 

“These are delicious,” I said, but it was Bannock’s wife who blushed with a shy smile before thanking me.

“I’ve been teaching her all morning,” Bannock claimed, wrapping a proud arm around her shoulder.

“Peeta, I bought ingredients for you to make the sweet potatoes tonight,” Mrs. Mellark said in a way that left little room for argument. When Peeta snorted under his breath, she was quick to tell me that he made them every holiday season since he was twelve, because he was so good at it.

“Had I known this was my future, I might’ve not tried so hard,” he chuckled, earning a swat from his mother. 

I helped by peeling the skins while he made a cinnamon maple butter sauce to be drizzled over the top of the casserole later on.

At dinner, I found out why Mrs. Mellark had made such a fuss. God, they were  _ delicious.  _

After everyone was sufficiently full and plates were cleared, Peeta, Rye and I took Matilda outside to burn off energy in the snow. It wasn’t often Panem got more than a mere dusting on the ground, so it was a real treat for her to be able to run around ankle deep in the powdery mixture. 

I watched with a smile, shoving my hands into the pockets of my jacket in an effort to ward off the chill. Right as my shoulders hunched, I felt the sudden prickling sensation of snow hitting the back of my thigh, soaking through the thin material of my pants. 

I whirled around, a mixture of shock and irritation crossing me as Peeta bent over with laughter. His nose and the tips of his ears were bright red from the cold, a stark contrast to his pale skin as he smiled. He looked his age in that moment--carefree, happy. A teenage boy the night before Christmas, having fun with his family.

I opened my mouth, intent to scold him just as he launched another snowball in my direction. I dodged it, but just barely.

“Peeta!” 

“I’m sorry? Was that a squeal I just heard?” he taunted, raising up an eyebrow. I scowled as he bent down to collect more snow.

“No,” I scoffed, raising a warning finger up at him. “Don’t.” 

He smirked, entirely too pleased with himself as he molded the snow into a tight ball.

“Peeta.  _ Do not.  _ I will end you.” 

“You are a terrifying creature, Katniss Everdeen,” he admitted, tossing the ball up and down in his palm. Sizing me up. “You know, my aim has significantly improved over the past few months. I’d even venture to say it’s as good as yours now. So, I’ll give you a five second head start. You can probably still outrun me, if you try.” 

“I’m not playing this stupid game.” I crossed my arms, tipping my chin up towards the sky defiantly. 

“Five…” His eyes held a wicked gleam to them, one that refused to back down. “Four. Three--”

I screamed as he started running towards me. Rye snatched Matilda up in the air, pulling her out of our pathway as we sprinted across the open yard and through the parting woods. 

I managed to gain a good lead on him then, dodging tree branches and covered footfalls much swifter than he could.

I slowed once I thought I’d lost him, catching my breath as it came out in harsh pants. 

When two arms latched around my middle, pulling me in closer, I cried out in surprise, the sound only intensifying when he held the cold snow up against my exposed neck. 

The noise melted into a quiet moan when his warm tongue enveloped the spot, placing languid kisses over the skin to ease the burn. I sighed, body relaxing as he swirled it around with soft lips resting against my pulse point.

“Peeta,” I whispered, leaning back so that my head was against his shoulder. 

“I caught you,” he breathed back, turning me around to face him. “And now that I have you, I don’t think I’ll let you out of my sight again.”

There was something in his face that made his words stretch deeper than just our silly game. It was the first semblance of reality either of us had mentioned in regards to him leaving. We’d spent the past couple days living in ignorant bliss, but the truth was it was like a cloud lingering over us. 

And it refused to budge, even while we played pretend.

New Year’s was just one week away, and then he would be gone. My heart sunk to the pit of my stomach, twisting uncomfortably and I gnawed on my lip for distraction. 

“I’m not ready either,” I admitted in a low, muted tone, staring off into the snow covered trees surrounding us. He twisted me to face him, placing a careful kiss on the tip of my wind-kissed nose and forced a smile to his lips.

“Not time yet.”

Then his carefulness faded. I felt the piercing hotness of his tongue again, prodding at the entryway to my lips before he tilted my head back to deepen the action. I sighed when his hands found their way to my hair and he glided the pads of his fingertips along my sensitive scalp.

A gruff sigh was the only thing that forced us apart and I felt my cheeks prickle with something other than cold. Rye stared back at us, Matilda in his arms, while wearing a broad grin. 

“Alright Love Birds, let’s keep it PG at the family Christmas party, shall we?” He nodded back towards the yard, a branch snapping under his heavy foot as he started in the general direction of it. “Matilda wants to build snowmen with  _ both _ of her uncles and Kat.”

We built snowmen and ate cookies until our stomachs hurt. It was a welcomed distraction really. Anything was better than thinking about the grim reality encroaching us. 

* * *

“When do you find out where you’ll be stationed?” I tried not to ask the question that had been on my mind since he arrived, but in the silence of his bedroom it felt like a boulder seated between us. 

Peeta stiffened below me and I felt the way his hand subconsciously curled around my side harder as he inhaled deeply.

“I found out already, actually.”

My heart sunk with his tone and immediately I sat up, draping the quilt over my bare chest as I turned to face him with knitted eyebrows. Even in the darkness, I could feel his eyes shifting away from mine and he scrubbed a hand over his face before continuing.

“They need more men overseas. Before you give me that look, let me explain. I won’t be on the battle front or anything like that. I’ll be in Europe. Germany.”

“I thought you didn’t have to leave the states.” I swallowed heavily, trying to mask the rising mixture of anger and worry in my voice as Peeta sat up straighter in the bed, causing the mattress to shift with his weight.

“Katniss, I knew this was a possibility when I signed the papers. We both knew it could happen. Of course I wish I wasn’t...hell, just a month ago the idea of being on just the opposite coast of you scared the shit out of me. But, it is what it is and we gotta handle it. We’re in this together, you and I, right?”

I could read the unease clear in his expression as he waited nervously for my reply. I felt sick, like I could’ve easily vomited as he stared back at me but felt an uneasy smile work itself to my lips as I forced a nod.

“Right,” I agreed, watching the tension melt from his body. “Together.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy the fluff while it lasts...
> 
> A bit of a shorter chapter, but a quick update to make up for it. Have a nice weekend, everyone. Stay safe and healthy.


	4. Chapter Four

By April the weather was warm and skies were consistently blue. Everything started to grow and blossom around Panem, a beautiful reminder of new beginnings.

Peeta left for Germany not long after the new year. Time was a funny thing, because it simultaneously felt like the months had dragged on impossibly slow, and yet suddenly it was already spring.

We texted regularly, through an app designed specifically for overseas communication, and Peeta still used his video chats to talk with me when he was able to. But, there was no denying the strain in our relationship that only seemed to grow stronger with his prolonged absence. 

I knew it was going to be hard. We were in two completely different time zones that made lining up time to talk difficult, and every time we managed to I could clearly see the stress outlining his face. He was under so much pressure and there was very little that I could do for him. 

He was pulling away. Distancing himself. That much I could practically feel through each of our stifled conversations. I just couldn’t tell if it was intentional or not yet. Whatever his reasoning, it scared me because it felt like our relationship had been nothing but sabotaged from the beginning. Destined to fail.

To make matters worse, I hadn’t gotten a period since New Years. 

I knew it was stupid and extremely irresponsible, but I hadn’t been able to bring myself to take a pregnancy test. It had been easy enough to ignore. The first month, I’d spotted and written it off as a light cycle and I’d never been regular enough to notice when I’d completely skipped February. 

But when March came and went without so much as one cramp...and then April...I had no choice but to face reality and figure out what steps needed to be taken.

Rye was the first person I told. We’d become good friends since our road trip in the fall and he was the only one who understood what I was going through entirely. Delly and Madge, even Darius tried. But they had their own lives to keep them busy with and it wasn’t long after their sympathetic pats or frowns that they moved on from conversation about uncomfortable things like war, and the army and Peeta.

There had been nights when I woke up in Peeta’s bed, after a lengthy conversation with Rye, or times I called him at odd hours just because I couldn’t stand being awake by myself. He always answered. Always listened. He’d become my best friend. 

When he offered to pick up a test for me, I didn’t refuse. He worked outside of Panem and could easily slip into a drug store without detection...something that couldn’t be said for me. By the time I got home with the thing, half of Panem would’ve been gossiping about the purchase.

“Take it now,” he demanded, tossing the paper bag into my lap when an ashen expression. He trailed behind me down the hall, practically trying to come into the bathroom with me before I shut the door in his eager face.

“Hurry up.”

“I can’t make it go any faster,” I told him through the door with a roll of my eyes. 

The box slid out of the bag and my stomach knotted uncomfortably. Looking at the package in my hands, the severity of what it might tell me became apparent. 

I read the directions with a deep sigh, hands shaking too badly to try opening it just yet. 

_Pee on the stick. Wait ten minutes for results._ Pretty self explanatory. 

I did as it said and placed the thing on some toilet paper in the sink before opening the door to find Rye exactly where I left him.

“Well?”

“It’s going to be ten minutes.”

“Good. That gives us time to talk,” he said, leaning in the doorway with crossed arms. “Who’s the jerk I need to beat up?”

His lip was curled with anger, face slightly red.

“What?”

“What were you thinking, Katniss?” he continued to scold. “I know Peeta’s out of the country, and that really sucks but he’s still your boyfriend.”

“Rye.” My deadly scowl stopped his rant in its tracks and with a very pointed look, understanding dawned on him. 

“It’s...Peeta’s?”

“There’s not really any other option. He’s the only guy I’ve ever slept with.” Heat crept down my neck and I fiddled with the end of my braid for something to do. Checked the time. Still five more minutes.

Rye’s eyes widened with the confession and he peered down at my flat stomach before a look of pity crossed his expression.

I hated it.

We waited quietly for fifteen more minutes, much longer than necessary, but for some reason neither of us could bring ourselves to look. Finally, when we’d stalled long enough, I gathered the courage to glance at it. 

_Positive._

I’d heard women talk about how they just _knew_ they were pregnant. Something about their body chemistry and hormones. I’d called bullshit up until now, because I knew the answer before I’d even looked. Somehow, the confirmation made it worse, though. 

I threw up.

Rye appeared behind the toilet where I laid crumpled with a glass of water and hopeless expression. I took slow sips and he wiped the cold sweat off of my forehead. 

“You have to tell him.”

I knew that. But the timing didn’t feel right. 

“He’s halfway across the world and there’s nothing he can do about it,” I rushed out, panic beginning to rise. “And he probably won’t even be back for the birth.”

“Katniss, breathe.”

Only then did I realize that I was hyperventilating. My chest rose and fell quickly, breaths coming out too short. I felt lightheaded. Dizzy. I felt like I was going to--

I threw up again, and Rye stroked my back. 

“You have to calm down,” he said, tone past supportive friend and straight to big brother protective mode. “This can’t be good for the baby.”

The baby. The baby that was living inside of me. Mine and Peeta’s baby.

Thoughts swirled around how I was going to tell Peeta everything as Rye continued on talking about medication and exercises and doctors visits…

“You’re right,” I whispered. 

“Well, I mean, I didn’t make this stuff up. It’s just doctor recommendations.”

“No,” I sighed, sitting up to turn and face him slowly. “I mean I need to talk with Peeta.”

“Oh.” Rye frowned and scratched the back of his neck. 

“...When?” 

* * *

Peeta didn’t get another video call allowance for three more days. It was torturous, texting him and pretending all was well while harboring possibly my biggest secret yet. I talked about school and Panem and Peeta wrote back in short, vague replies that made the decision to tell him my news all the more difficult. 

Finally, Friday came and around two in the afternoon but well into the evening where he was stationed in Germany, my computer started to ring with an incoming chat request from him.

“Hey there!” I greeted with a smile.

“Hey.” His reply was delayed a few seconds, as the connection buffered. All of his movements were a little slow and stilted and suddenly it didn’t seem any better than telling him over text message that he was going to be a father. At least that way there wouldn’t be any prying ears from his buddies who I saw lingering in the background.

“Oh, I learned something new,” I told him before clearing my throat. “ _Ich spreche ein bisschen Deutsch._ I think I said that ‘I speak a little German’ but I’m pretty bad--”

“I know what you said.”

“Maybe I’m better than I thought,” I chuckled, and when he didn’t match the amusement I felt myself beginning to sweat. “So, how are you?”

“I’m fine.”

“Really? Because you don’t seem fine. You seem a little...on edge.”

“Well, I am in a _war_ , Katniss.”

His sharp reply made me visibly recoil and my lips pulled down into a frown.

“It’s not like you’re in a battle zone.” I meant for it to be reassuring, but it sounded judgemental even to my ears. Peeta’s jaw clenched and I realized the conversation was quickly going downhill. I needed to switch gears fast, because the idea of having to wait another three days to tell him my news was excruciating.

“Never mind. Sorry, I didn't mean it like that. Of course it's stressful. I’m just nervous because there’s something I need to tell you.”

“Wait,” he said, cupping the brim of his hat and lifting it off of his head. He smoothed a hand over his short hair before settling it back down. “Me first. It’s important.” 

“Okay…” I said, trying to stifle my irritation. His mood was rubbing off on me, and all of the building anticipation made it hard to breathe or even swallow as I waited.

He sighed, not making eye contact as he stared off to the side of the screen.

“Katniss. I don’t think this is working out.” 

“You don’t...think…” my words trailed off and everything slowed.

I could see his lips moving, but the words coming out of them made no sense. A jumbled mix of _girl_ and _sex_ and _done._

I felt tears welling in the corner of my eyes despite myself and bent my head down, trying to mask them by hiding behind a sheath of hair. 

“Look at me,” he begged in a ragged voice. When I did, I saw the glint of impending tears in his own eyes and none of it made sense. “Katniss, I didn’t do this to hurt you. But...how long could this have actually gone on, anyways?” 

“What happened to us being in this together? You and I, remember?” I snapped, no longer trying to hide my anger or hurt. Peeta sighed, looking up to the ceiling as if it would keep more tears from falling. 

“I know.”

“You know?”

“Yeah, I know--”

“Then what the hell?” I shouted, gaining the attention of some of the guys behind him. “You’re the one who left, remember? I’m here _alone_ and you’re in Germany fucking other girls?”

“I left to serve my country.”

“You left so they would pay your bills,” I bit back and saw the cold, distant expression return to his face. “And you couldn’t even keep your dick in your pants for _three months.”_

“I’m sorry,” he said, not sounding it at all. I felt myself shaking, willing for him to show half as much emotion as I was. He seemed finished with the conversation, antsy to get off of the call. He sniffed, wiping away the last evidence of his remorse before staring back at me with indifferent eyes.

“So this is the kind of man you want to be?” I asked, and when he didn’t reply I felt desperation rising. “We’re not over, Peeta. We can fix this. I--”

“Katniss,” he said sharply, voice hard and resolved. I blinked and he frowned back at me, shoulders stiff.

“I don’t want to fix it.”

The screen went black before disappearing entirely and bringing me back to the web-browser that had previously been opened.

Prenatal care.

Rye promised me earlier that everything was going to be okay. It was unexpected yes, and it would be hard at times, but in the end I was going to be fine. 

If that was what fine felt like, I would be content never feeling it again.

* * *

“Anytime you’re ready to pull your head out of your ass, I’ll be waiting.”

I stood in the narrow doorway to Rye’s old bedroom, the one Mrs. Mellark had turned into a craft and sewing room shortly after he moved out. He sat at the wide desk cast off to the side, positioned behind his computer that illuminated the hard lines of his face as he stared at the screen grimly.

When he noticed me, his hand tightened around the seat of his chair.

“How do you think Katniss feels? She--”

“Don’t talk about Katniss.” The voice on the other side of the screen interrupted Rye and my heart sped up at the sound, a reaction I couldn’t help even when his tone was laced with ice. 

Like he had any right to be mad at me. After everything, he was the one requesting _my_ name not be brought up? I felt the irrational sting of tears start to prickle my eyes and turned to inspect the ceiling to keep them from falling. 

That’s what being pregnant did to me, though. Dumb hormones. I went from being able to count on one hand how many times I cried in a year to sobbing at the drop of a hat on any given day. It felt a little more warranted, currently, but I didn’t want to worry Rye more than he already was.

He was always worried about me and the baby these days. And Peeta. And the tension that was brewing within his family because of his behavior. It seemed like the happy-go-lucky guy I’d taken a road trip with last year was forever replaced by the one who carried unbearable weight on his shoulders. 

“Dude, what is the matter with you?” Rye asked, exasperated. “You’re not the little brother that I know.”

I placed a hand on top of my round belly and rubbed it thoughtfully as a means of calming myself while they argued. Moments after stroking, the little baby inside gave a loving kick back to acknowledge his presence.

Back in April, when everything was first coming to a head and my mind was a constant whirlwind of emotion, I’d heavily considered all of my options when it came to ‘the fetus.’ If I hadn’t already begun showing, I’m not sure that I would still be pregnant now.

Then, I heard the little heart beating for the first time and I was a goner. He was a boy, who’s name I hadn’t decided on yet, but Prim assured me there was still plenty of time for that. 

Mom was still largely unhelpful. She struggled to understand why I would want to keep a baby that forever linked me to my ex-boyfriend. I tried remembering it wasn’t her fault, she was ill, but in the moments that I desperately just needed my mother it was painful to know she wasn’t there for me. 

Since the decision to keep the baby, she hadn’t offered much in the way of support, insisting that I dropped out of school and got a full-time job to help out financially. Rye insisted that I could start working at the bakery, and as appealing as the thought of being surrounded by familiar faces was, it was too weird. 

There were still some places where Peeta Mellark’s ghost lingered, and the Mellark bakery was one of them. Mr. and Mrs. Mellark still insisted on helping out in the avenues they could, surely trying to make up for their son’s lack of responsibility. 

They had been far more helpful than I had expected. Mrs. Mellark went overboard with decorating the nursery, _for when they babysat of course_ , and had purchased more clothes than he would physically be able to wear before growing out of them.

Her acceptance had surprised me. Though she’d never been blatantly rude to me, she hadn’t had many words for me in the past and I wasn’t all that sure she liked me. When I confessed my feelings to Rye one night, he told me that he thought she felt guilty over Peeta’s behavior. And even if she disagreed with how things transpired, she wasn’t going to miss out on seeing her grandchild grow up.

I couldn’t be upset. It was a perfectly acceptable response. Their family’s kindness had been one of the small joys that I could carry with me through the months leading up to my son’s birth.

My son. The one Peeta didn’t even know about. 

He’d refused to answer my calls, hung up the times Rye tried including me in on his, and now six months had passed since our breakup, and I was due with the biggest secret I’d never meant to keep any day now.

A part of me truly thought it would all be figured out by now. That was stupid, wishful thinking. People don’t say goodbye out of the blue just because, and Peeta Mellark had meant what he said to me. 

_I don’t_ want _to fix it._

It was still enough to make my stomach knot thinking about it.

“So what? You’re just going to leave her hanging?” Rye’s seething words cut through my wandering thoughts, and when I looked back over his jaw was clenched so tight I could see the hard lines through his skin. 

“It’s been six months since we broke up,” Peeta replied cooly and I could just picture the smooth features of his expression as he stared back at his brother with emotionless eyes. “If she’s still hanging, maybe she should try tightening the rope.”

“Fuck you, Peeta.” He slammed the cover of his laptop down hard before pushing away from the desk with force great enough to make it shake. He pulled at his hair, frustrated, and I saw his face grow more red with anger.

“Rye,” I said, wrapping my sweater further around my stomach before crossing my arms. I waddled over closer to him, giving his back a reassuring pat while urging him to look at me. “Rye, it’s okay.”

“No, it really isn’t, Katniss. You might forgive him, but you’re not an asshole. What he did to you isn’t right.” 

“Who said I forgave him?” I teased, forcing a playful smile which finally cracked Rye’s stoic expression. “He’s your brother. I don’t want to be the thing that comes between the two of you.”

“That’s a wall he’s built all on his own,” Rye scoffed with a disgusted shake of his head. “I mean, goddamn, what am I supposed to do? That’s my nephew in there.” He jabbed a finger in the direction of stomach for emphasis. “And you’re part of this family, too. Just because he’s not stepping up doesn’t mean the rest of us are going to leave you high and dry.”

I smiled, a small and quiet action that had me bite the corner of my lip to keep it from trembling. These hormones were going to be the death of me, but at least they were an excuse to cry without anyone framing me as weak. 

“I just don’t get what his problem is,” Rye muttered, pacing the length of the bedroom. “But, I’m here for you, Kat.”

“Thanks, Uncle Rye,” I smiled sadly, accepting his hug when he extended his arms out. “I love you.”

“Love you too, kid. Don’t worry, Kat. He’ll come to his senses.”

“I’m not sure if that’s true,” I whispered into his chest, and Rye rubbed my back, gently. 

“It will,” he promised, breaking the embrace as we started to leave the craft room and head back downstairs. I was midway down when I stopped to turn back and look at him. 

“I don’t know if I want it to happen.” 

+++

_Dear Peeta,_

_I’m writing you this letter because I know that if I try to call you again, you will only hang up. I don’t know what I did to make you so upset, but maybe one day I will understand. For now, it is time for me to “tighten the ropes” and start the process of letting you go._

_But in order to do that, I deserve closure. The day you told me the news that changed my life, I had news of my own to share with you. I will keep this note short, because I’m sure your desire to hear from me is about as low as my desire to be contacting you. After this, rest assured, I will stay out of your life._

_I’m pregnant. I found out just a couple days before the last time we spoke and have been trying to reach out to you since. Hopefully, you read this letter and discover that you are having a little boy. Should you wish to be involved in his life in anyway, we would need to be on speaking terms with one another. I refuse to raise a child in an environment where the two people who are supposed to love him unconditionally are toxic in each other's presence._

_I hope this letter finds you responsible enough to warrant a reply._ _If perhaps you are not too distracted by the local girls to take it seriously._

_Katniss._

+++

The labor was quick and painful.

I woke up with a stomach ache but didn’t think too much of it, knowing I had an appointment at the doctor's office in just two short hours. By the time I was being examined, they informed me that I was already six centimeters dilated and needed to go to the hospital. 

I called Rye from the ambulance, gripping the side railings on the bed they’d strapped me on anxiously as the vehicle ripped through Panem and onto the highway towards the city, about twenty minutes away. 

I had to roll my eyes at the chaos ensuing on the other end of the phone. Mrs. Mellark noisily working to wrap up the day’s goodies while Mr. Mellark shooed remaining customers away. Rye was so frantic, he hardly heard me until I was screaming his name.

“Are you okay, Kat?” he finally asked and I let out an annoyed huff, rubbing my stomach thoughtfully.

“I’m fine. Tell everyone to calm down. If this is labor, it’s a piece of cake.” 

Not one hour later, I was sitting in the delivery room with my knees up to my eyeballs, sweating profusely and cursing every living thing in sight.

“Give me the epidural,” I begged, throwing my head back into the drenched pillow as another powerful contraction worked its way through my groin. _"Please."_

“You’re too far along,” Rye reminded me, holding my hand tightly despite the mean things I said to him. 

“Ms. Everdeen, keep pushing,” the doctor reminded me in a calm, even voice that pissed me off even more. I groaned and when he patted my leg reassuringly I had to fight the urge to kick him. 

I cried out, squeezing both Rye and Prim’s hands to the point of cutting off circulation.

“You can do this,” my little sister promised me, placing a cool cloth across my forehead. “He’s crowning.”

“I see a head. He’s got a lot of hair!” The nurse smiled, and that small comment gave me enough adrenaline to keep going. They could see him. My baby. His hair. 

“One more good push and you’ll be past the hardest part. One, two…three!”

I screamed, and then he screamed. Small, hiccuped infant cries sounded throughout the room and relief caused me to sag against the mattress. The tears that flowed from my eyes as they placed his little body over my chest couldn’t be helped. I cradled his small, writhing body against me, adoringly. 

“He does have so much hair,” I sobbed and Prim smiled, pushing sweaty strands away from my eyes. 

They cleaned him, taking care to bundle his little body up in a soft gray blanket before passing him back to me.

Six pounds, eight ounces. Eighteen inches. He had the smallest fingers in the world, I was pretty sure, and when they curled around my pointer finger, my heart melted into a puddle of nothing.

“So, be honest,” Rye asked, much later in the evening when he was sitting in a chair beside my bed, rocking his new nephew. “Did you...you know, poop?" 

“Rye!” Mrs. Mellark scolded, completely dumbfounded by her son before her expression softened at the cooing baby. 

“What? I would’ve looked for myself but, no thanks.”

“I would have killed you.”

“I don’t doubt that,” he snickered. 

“Do you have a name picked out?” Mom asked, changing the subject, and I subconsciously ran a hand over the still swollen curve of my belly. It was a weird adjustment, no longer having a resident inside of me.

“Lucas, I think. Luke.” I replied, hesitant to admit my suggestion out loud. I wasn’t sure what I expected, but was overwhelmed by the agreeing nods and resounding _awws._ Mrs. Mellark handed Luke off to my mother, and for the first time since I’d told her I was pregnant, she smiled genuinely at the small life in her arms and kissed his peanut nose.

“Hi Luke,” she whispered, running a gentle palm over his dark, downy hair, leaving it sticking up in every direction. 

“I wish Peeta were here,” Mrs. Mellark sighed resentfully, low enough for only my ears as she came to sit on the side of my bed. I wasn’t sure what she thought telling me that would accomplish, but I focused my stare on the circle of people that had formed around Luke. 

I never did hear back from Peeta after sending the letter. At first, I thought that maybe it got lost in the mail...that was an awfully long journey for one piece of paper to make. Then, I wondered if he’d received it. Maybe his unit was on lock down and couldn’t get mail. 

But then I sent another. And one more for good measure. All went unanswered.

I swallowed with a nod, allowing Mrs. Mellark to squeeze my palm as I leaned back against the pile of pillows that sat behind my back.

“Yeah.”

“You’ll be okay, though.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. I would have to be. Luke needed his parents, and if I couldn’t give him that I sure as hell would give him the very best mother I could offer.

I was going to be okay because of _him._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you know any spoilers, I kindly ask that you refrain from sharing any in the comments so readers who are enjoying for the first time can enjoy. Thank you for reading!


	5. Part II

* * *

P a r t T w o

* * *

Time flew by fast. 

It was well into August, humid as ever, and Luke was practically two years old. _Two years old?_ When in the world had that happened? I told myself that with a solid month and a half before his next birthday party, I still had time to mull that question over. 

He was already so smart. Loved to sing and dance...and talk. Lord, my baby could babble. He was outgoing--a total flirt--and wore his staple toothy grin way more often than a frown. He was an easy kid, so everyone told me. For me, his easy disposition was all I’d known since becoming a mom. 

He toddled around the front of the Mellark’s bakery now, squealing in delight with one hand grasping his sippy cup and the other his beloved toy car. His wide stance and waddle was a give away that it was approaching time for a diaper change. 

“Luke,” I called, chasing after him. He laughed, racing around just out of my reach. Dammit, my kid was quick. “Come here, bud. Rye, a little help?”

I glanced over my shoulder to see him leaning against the counter with his chin propped up in the palm of his hand. His eyes were distant, glassed over as he gazed down at his phone with an unreadable expression so unlike him.

He inhaled deeply and stood straighter, focusing on me at the sound of his name.

“Where did Luke go?” he asked, in that over-exaggerated voice people spoke to little kids in. From behind a table, Luke started to giggle and then let out a blood-curdling scream when their eyes locked.

Rye snatched him up, lifting his shirt to give his exposed belly kisses as he held him upside down in his arms.

Luke’s unruly hair floated like a cloud around his head, soft puffs of blonde curls. When he was born with a dark head of hair, I thought I’d escaped that particular trait of Peeta’s. 

No such luck. The older he got, the blonder his hair started to become. I was thankful that his eyes were at least gray. The only facial trait he’d inherited from me. Otherwise, there was no denying his father was a Mellark. 

Rye handed the squirming child to me and turned back to his phone almost instantly, the same look of worry down casting his eyebrows.

“Rye?” I asked, voice turned up in question as his fingers started to type wildly on the screen. It was a quiet day at the bakery, not very good for business, but it was for the best. Neither Mr. or Mrs. Mellark--Bran and Evelyn, as they’d asked me to call them before--were in to help Rye today.

He looked up at me with reluctance, sighing deep as he ran a hand over his head.

“What is going on?” I felt my heart rate accelerating and the hard lines in his forehead weren’t doing much to help my growing anxiety. 

“Don’t freak out.”

“You’ve left me no choice now,” I muttered, already running through a list of possibilities, preparing myself for his next words. 

I spread Luke’s blanket out on the floor, urging him to lay down so that I could change him under the ruse of calmness. When I pulled the straps of his diaper, I scrunched my nose and made a face which made my little boy giggle.

“Rye,” I said in a sing-song voice for the two year olds benefit. He was watching me like a hawk, almost sensing the rising fear in me. “Spill.”

“Peeta is coming home.”

I felt the air get knocked out of me at the mention of his name. Swallowing deeply, though, I nodded slowly, trying to appear unfazed.

“It had to happen.” My feigned normalcy was fooling no one. When I sat Luke back up to play with his cars, Rye was staring back at me with a raised brow. “I mean, it’s been how long since your family last saw him? Almost three years? How long will he be in town for? Maybe Luke and I can…”

I trailed off. Luke and I could what? Leave? It felt a touch dramatic to admit out loud that I would rather skip town than possibly run into my ex boyfriend. It was an odd time for a scheduled vacation, but then again I supposed that not every soldier was able to come home for the holidays.

“We’ll figure something out,” I concluded. 

“Katniss, you’re not understanding me.” Rye’s head shook slowly. “He’s not coming home for a few days. He’s...well...he was in an accident.” 

My foot stilled on the pedal of the trash can, its lid open but my hand refusing to unclench itself from around the diaper. Rye’s eyes burned a hole into the back of my head, but I couldn’t turn to face him. Not even as I felt myself beginning to tremble.

“What kind of accident?” My voice was low and gravely. Somewhere behind both of us, Luke babbled on happily. My vision blurred, like I was on the verge of passing out. It had to have been bad, for him to be back in the states, right? Was he going back to Germany once treated? Would he even make it?

I twisted around to face Rye, who wore all of the distraught emotions I felt in his expression. His phone pinged again, and he answered the text with ease before blowing out another harsh breath. He looked completely overwhelmed.

“He’s stable,” he answered, and I got lost in his explanation of explosions and bomb raids and Peeta’s unit. Instinctively, I reached out for the counter, gripping it so hard I was surprised I didn’t get any splinters from its wood. 

“He was in the hospital over there for a few weeks. Had a few surgeries before they deemed him alright to fly back to the states. He’s been transported to Capitol hospital. That’s where he is now.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” 

Everything was starting to piece itself together; Mrs. Mellark’s inexplicable weight loss, their frequent disappearances from the bakery I’d known them to work in from sunrise to sundown since I was a little girl. The way no one seemed to be able to make eye contact with me.

“And say what?” Rye shot back with a scoff. “Look, I wasn’t ready to get you involved until I knew I had to.” 

“Well, you’re a shitty secret keeper,” I soured, placing my hands on my hips. “You think I couldn’t tell something was up? And why the hell was a bomb raid happening in Germany? That wasn’t a war zone.”

“He wasn’t in Germany,” Rye sighed, his normally bright blue eyes, dull. “He was in Afghanistan.” 

“W-what?” I stammered. The wetness that blurred my vision was entirely beyond my control, but I fought my hardest to keep them from falling down my cheeks. “Since when?”

“I don’t know,” Rye whispered. “None of us knew. We just found out. The doctors…”

I wrapped myself in his arms, holding onto Rye tightly as I felt his body tremble. I’d never seen Rye Mellark cry, and gave him the dignity of doing so in my hair instead of face to face. His arms latched around me like a vice, and we stood like that for several long minutes before Luke toddler over with a concerned expression.

“Uncle Rye?” he asked, patting his leg. “You crying? Momma? You crying?”

“I’m okay, little dude,” Rye promised, putting on a brave face as he bent to pick his nephew up. He gave his pudgy cheek a kiss before handing him over and wiping his face free of evidence from his tears.

“I have to go. Peeta’s having his last ligament surgery tomorrow morning. I need to go and see him.”

I nodded, my turn to be brave. It was hard to watch him gather his things up to leave, and suddenly I felt very much alone. Like my entire support system for the past two and a half years was being pulled away. But then I remembered that the Mellark’s were actually Peeta’s family. 

I was just the girl he had accidentally knocked up and stuck them with.

“I’ll stop by tonight on my way home,” he promised sincerely. “We can talk more. If you want.”

“I want to go with you,” I said, suddenly. Surprising both Rye and myself. He stopped midway to the door and turned to give me an incredulous look.

“That’s not a good idea, Katniss.”

“He’s the father of my son.”

“And he’s expressed zero interest in being such,” Rye completed, eyes widening as he looked at me like I’d lost my mind. “He’s recovering from a severe concussion, several torn ligaments and an _amputation_ surgery. This isn’t the time to push this.”

My stomach felt heavy as he ticked off the damages. Blunt but honest, that was my best friend.

“So, Luke stays home then,” I suggested, quietly. “I agree. It’s not the time or place for them to meet.”

“Katniss,” Rye sighed. “Look, I’m not trying to be a dick, but, I don’t think it’s just Luke who should stay home.”

I bristled at the implication and bit down on my lip to keep from letting it show too much on my face.

“Wow, okay.”

“I’m not defending him or taking his side,” Rye said quickly, hands shooting up in defense. “Trust me, I’m trying to protect _you.”_

“I’m a big girl, Rye. I don’t need protection.” Already my fingers were busy texting Prim to see if there was any chance she’d be able to look after Luke for a few hours. He was in desperate need of a nap anyways, and would probably sleep the entire time I was gone.

“This won’t end well,” he warned, locking the bakery up as we stepped outside. I transferred Luke’s seat from the back of my car into his and he rubbed his temples, as if sensing an impending migraine. I smiled tightly, falling into the passenger seat before fastening my seat belt.

“Why are you such a pain in the ass?” 

“He’s the father of my son,” I said again, so quietly it made Rye pause. I shifted uncomfortably under his steady scrutiny and stared out the window, not speaking again until he started the car. “And you know, there was a time where I thought I might’ve loved him.”

“You don’t owe him anything,” Rye answered gently.

“But I owe you. Your entire family.”

“Owe us what?”

“Civility. Peace. Not needing to walk on eggshells around either of us.” 

“We all understand.”

“Rye, I’m coming,” I said with finality. 

We drove the rest of the way to my old house in silence. Prim was waiting on the front porch, waving eagerly at her nephew before scooping him up in her arms to take him inside as we drove off. 

“He’s probably sleeping.” Rye’s eyes shifted to mine before refocusing on the road. “Which maybe is for the best, anyways.”

But, he wasn’t sleeping.

A nurse in Snoopy scrubs and frizzy red hair stopped us before we’d hardly stepped off the elevator. By the kind smile she wore for Rye, it was clear she knew who he was, but her accusatory eyes shifted to me a moment later. 

“I’m sorry, Miss. Immediate family only.”

My mouth opened to argue, but nothing came out. What could I say? That he was my ex-boyfriend and baby daddy that I hadn’t talked to in almost three years? Oh, and by the way, I wasn’t even one hundred percent sure he knew about the kid? It wasn’t going to work. 

I looked up at Rye, looking for the answer in his eyes, but he only bit down on his bottom lip. 

“Let me go talk to him,” he suggested, peering between the nurse and me before shuffling down the hallway and disappearing past a curtained off room. The nurse’s eyes squinted as she gave me a studious look, as if trying to place me one last time before she turned to follow Rye. 

Seven, eight, nine minutes passed before anyone came back, and it was the sullen faced nurse who fidgeted with her hands as she approached. 

“I’m really sorry, hon, but it’s family only at this point.” She repeated, unwilling to meet my eyes as she added, “Patient’s request.” 

I went down to the hospital’s cafeteria and grabbed a stale cup of coffee before heading out to Rye’s car where I sat and waited for two hours before he returned. We drove back to the bakery to pick up my car silently, neither of us having anything to say. I felt my anger only rising, and because of it, didn’t trust myself to speak without saying something stupid that I would only regret. 

But Peeta had made it abundantly clear where he stood when it came to either Luke or I tonight. His stance was that he didn’t care, whether he was coming back permanently or not.

So, I was just going to have to continue making life work without him and pay no matter the distance.

I’d become a pro at that, anyhow.

* * *

“Look, you have to come. It’s not up for discussion.”

Rye sighed into the receiver, voice resigned as I lounged on my sofa with the phone wedged between my shoulder and ear.

“...What are you eating?” 

“Cheerios,” I replied, popping another handful into my mouth and brushing some crumbs away from my shirt.

“Can you chew any louder?” he criticized, only half joking. “Who just snacks on dry cereal?” he asked before catching himself. “Stop distracting me. You’re coming today. Evelyn won’t have it any other way.” 

“Evelyn will have to get over it, because no, I’m not.” I needed to file my nails. The jagged edge of my pointer finger kept snagging on my t-shirt, causing a loose threat to pucker. 

“Why not?”

“There are zero good reasons for me to come to Peeta’s homecoming party, Rye.”

“How about the fact that we’re your family too and no one is planning to just cast you and Luke off to the side because he’s home now. He’s going to need to get used to being around you sooner or later.”

“I choose later.”

“Katniss Everdeen.”

_“What?”_

“You are coming to this party. It’s his own fault that he knocked you up and then decided to--”

“--Look,” I interrupted, voice stern in a way that caused Rye to grow uncharacteristically silent on the other end. “Me coming today would be uncomfortable for everyone. The hospital all over, but times like, one hundred.”

I didn’t care what Rye said, or if Evelyn had invited me. It changed nothing. I would still be the desperate, single mother to the messed up, war torn hometown hero. The party was going to carry its own share of tension without me adding to them. 

Three weeks had passed since I tried to visit Peeta in the hospital. He’d gotten the all clear to go home just a few days after I found out he was in town, and sent back to the Mellark’s for a routine schedule of physical therapists, no privacy and a make-shift bedroom in Mr. Mellark’s office--the only room on the first floor. 

Evelyn had been the one who first suggested him moving in, just until he could get back on his feet.

 _“Poor choice of words,”_ Rye had muttered to me, feeling bad only after his mother had broken down in tears. She was sick over what’d happened to her youngest son, carrying the bulk of the guilt for refusing to help him pay for art school.

 _“His only option was to join the military,”_ she’d told me tearfully at the bakery my first afternoon seeing her. “I left him no other option.”

_“You didn’t know.”_

_“I sent him off to a war, Katniss.”_ It was clear, she was not in a place to forgive herself. _“I knew what I was doing.”_

I didn’t see the arrangement being permanent. Already, from what I’d heard from Rye, there was tension. It seemed that as soon as Peeta was able to move out of his parents home, and hopefully out of Panem all together, he would. And then I wouldn’t feel so pathetic each time I went to hang around the Mellark’s. 

For now, I was content to live my life as a recluse.

I’d officially decided mine and Luke’s new fate a few days ago, after a trip to the grocery store led to a run-in with Glimmer and Cashmere Donohaugh, two of the nosiest bitches I’d had the pleasure of growing up with. They trapped me in the cereal aisle, fawning over Luke for a couple of minutes before cornering me like prey.

“I heard _Peeta_ is back in town,” Glimmer only mouthed his name, like the mere mention of it in front of Luke was enough to make him burst into flames. Or maybe it was for my benefit, it wasn’t clear.

“That must be so difficult,” Cashmere frowned.

“You are _so strong.”_

“It really doesn’t matter,” I said, trying to appear indifferent as I grabbed my cart and pushed it past them. Glimmer’s hand landed on my shoulder.

“Of course it does,” she argued. “But, try not to take it personally, you know? I mean, you and Peeta were only a hookup, right? It’s not like it meant anything.” 

I didn’t want to know about the other rumors that were spinning out of control around town now that he was back. Didn’t want anything to do with conversation that mashed our names together in the same sentence.

“It’s only going to be worse if you don’t come,” Rye kept on, refusing to quit. “Like you’re scared of him, or something. People will talk.” 

“People talk no matter what. It’s a small town, they’re bored.” 

He had a point, though. Half of the town was sure to gather at the Mellark’s house for the party. My presence...or lack thereof, would definitely go noticed despite the crowds. 

“Luke is taking a nap.”

“So show up fashionably late.” I could practically hear the grin of satisfaction in Rye’s voice. “Party doesn’t start for another hour, anyways. See you soon, Katniss.”

“Wait.” I stopped him before he could hang up and sighed in resignation. “...What can I bring?”

“Just yourself.” 

He hung up before I had the chance to reply.

+++

I brought a veggie platter. 

It felt tacky to come empty-handed and if for no other reason, holding the plate gave my hands something to do instead of pinch and pull at my clothing nervously. 

Luke was still teething, the last of his baby teeth starting to come in, and it made him clingy and a little more irritable than his typical calm demeanor. His small but sharp nails were practically digging into my shoulder blade as we approached the familiar house, packed with people.

Patriotic streamers and balloons decorated the front porch, and a huge American Flag wreath hung from the open door.

Mrs. Mellark greeted me quickly, taking Luke from my arms and guiding me to the kitchen.

“Stick that right in the fridge,” she instructed, pulling open the large stainless steel doors and shuffling items around to make space. She let out a sigh, pushing a piece of her blonde hair out from her eyes before scanning the kitchen, worry in her expression. 

“This is a little more than I anticipated,” she admitted quietly. “I hope that he can handle it.” 

“He’s always loved an audience.” I tried to sound reassuring, but my voice was still too sour. I looked down at the floor, studying it guiltily.

“Things are a little different now, Katniss.”

“Of course.”

Before I could say anything worse, a heavy hand landed on my shoulder and spun me around. Rye looked relieved to see me, pulling me in for a quick hug.

“Good. You came.”

“You left me no choice.”

“You, Katniss Everdeen, are not known for your ability to take direction,” he teased.

“Rye, I need you two to stick toothpicks in the watermelon balls,” Mrs. Mellark interrupted to say, handing me a container of little wooden sticks, and Rye the bowl of melon. 

We stood on opposite sides of the island, leaning in close to each other as I glanced around, skeptically.

“Where is he?” I whispered, surprising even myself at the smoothness of my tone.

“Outside, I think. He was getting too crowded here. Everyone keeps gawking at him like he’s some kind of freak. I told Mom it was too soon for all of this. The whole day feels inappropriate as fuck.” 

I had to agree. Looking around, I took a sly glance through the glass doors that led out back in search of Peeta. Rye told me he was temporarily wheelchair bound, until he had better control over his prosthesis. It shouldn’t have been this difficult to track him down. 

“She’s worried he can’t handle it,” I admitted, quietly, earning a grunt from Rye. 

“He hasn’t been doing very well. Mentally.” 

“What do you mean?” I frowned, but he only scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck thoughtfully before shaking his head.

“I think it’s good you came today. Seeing the baby...it might bring him back to reality, you know?” 

The idea of not only facing Peeta, but introducing him to Lucas today made my stomach knot uncomfortably and heart rate increase. I swallowed thickly, busying myself with the task Evelyn had assigned. 

“It’s that bad?” 

“He’s pretty messed up. I’ve heard him screamin’ a few nights.” 

“Jesus,” I whispered, shaking my head as if to clear the unsettling image. 

When we finished with the melon, I turned to set it on the table behind me with the rest of the appetizers, and froze. Through the long sliding glass doors, I came face to face with Peeta. His glossy blue eyes bored into mine, a mixture of emotion in them despite his tightly clenched jaw. 

I gasped, mouth slightly parted and heart pounding in my chest. His expression was dark, like he wanted to strangle me on sight. Either that or kiss me, the conflicting emotions were difficult to tell apart. 

I gripped the counter to keep from falling over, unable to tear my eyes away from him.

Then, he turned and wheeled away in the opposite direction as me.

+++

Throughout the evening, I could feel the heat of Peeta’s gaze without having to search for him. Everyone had gathered outside, occupying either the deck or scattered around the lawn, but I stuck close to Rye, hoping to hide behind the wide expanse of his shoulders and the grill. 

It shouldn’t have surprised me to see Madge, Delly and Darius there. It was just a few years ago that we were all friends, celebrating our graduations together. Even right after Peeta was deployed, we kept in touch. Spent a few Friday nights together and grabbed a couple lunches together. But after things got messy between Peeta and I, it wasn’t the same. 

I drew in on myself and none of them ever really tried to bring me back out.

I didn’t resent them for that. From the outside looking in, I could only imagine how awkward mine and Peeta’s predicament seemed. Not knowing what was or wasn’t a taboo topic to bring up was enough to avoid conversation all together. But it didn’t make this day any easier, either.

Being able to drink helped. A few drinks each and conversation was flowing easier. Not to mention, it widened my barrier between myself and the guest of honor...who was still making occasional glances in my direction. 

“Katniss, it’s a little concerning how pale you are,” Rye muttered close to my ear while Delly went on about her month-long retreat to Puerto Rico last spring. 

“Is he looking?”

“If I check, it’ll make it that much more obvious that we were talking about him.”

I growled under my breath, making Rye chuckle before his eyes darted up past our group, just for a moment. He tilted his chin forward in the slightest form of confirmation.

“Great.” I hitched Luke up on my hip higher, unconsciously shifting on my feet at the idea of being watched. “This was why I didn’t want to come.”

The entire thing was going just as I’d anticipated. It shouldn’t have surprised me, there was no other way this party could have possibly gone. And yet, there I was. 

The thing really bothering me was the way he refused to acknowledge Lucas. It was one thing for him to avoid me, clearly he was far from the guy I had developed feelings for years ago, but I never pictured him as the type to ignore his own kid. 

Luke rested his head on my shoulder and let out a held sigh, exhausted and already in need of a nap. I rubbed soothing circles on his back, still distracted. 

Peeta and I had a conversation about kids, once. It was when he was in Germany and we were talking on his computer. He was telling me about the kids in the neighboring towns near their base, and how sometimes they would bring presents for the soldiers. Through the chat, he sent me photos of their beaming faces and then casually, like he didn’t even realize the gravity of his words, he admitted that one day he wanted to be a father. 

“You’re thinking again” Rye cut through my thoughts, bringing me back to reality, and gave me a hard look. “Knock it off.”

“I’m not,” I argued, despite my heated cheeks. It made Rye laugh and he wrapped a free arm around my shoulder, bringing me in closer to his body. 

“Just breathe.”

I did as he said, mumbling a thank you.

“Luke’s going to be ready for a nap soon.” 

“Let me,” Rye said, holding his arms out to take him from me. “Catch up with your friends and try to relax. I’ll put the kid down.” 

Luke settled into Rye’s broad arms as easily as he had mine, fiddling with the soft curls at the nape of his uncle’s neck. Rye leaned in and placed a quick kiss against the top of my head before retreating for the door.

At the same moment, the loud sound of a utensil against glass abruptly rang. 

Our head snapped in unison, searching for the source of the sound, and found it across the deck, coming from Peeta. He continued to tap the glass obnoxiously until everyone in the vicinity had quieted down and were focused on him, then he rose up from his chair shakily until he was fully standing.

My stomach twisted with sympathy despite internal protests. After having spent so many years being angry and resentful of him, it felt weird to share that space with any other feelings. But there was no other choice than to feel sorry for him when I saw the obvious struggle and pain he tried to mask in just standing up. When his hand reached out for the railing of the deck, he finally steadied himself. 

“Hi...everyone.” I felt something tighten in my chest at the sound of his voice for the first time in so long and was grateful for Rye’s arm to steady myself. “I just wanted to take a minute before bowing out for the evening to thank everyone for being here to… _celebrate._ ”

His words trailed off, leaving silence in their wake. His thick eyebrows were downcast, irritation palpable in his expression. So different from the charismatic Peeta who had given a similar speech at his graduation party. There was no playing the audience, now.

“I’m not exactly sure what we’re celebrating,” he muttered a moment later, almost to himself. I was starting to pick up on nervous ticks I hadn’t remembered him having before. The way his eyes blinked with a little less pause and how his hand would move up to scratch at his shorn hair.

Mrs. Mellark stepped in, helping to lower him back down into the chair to the sound of stilted applause. When she smiled it was tense, exhausted, but she smoothed out her dress and held onto Peeta’s hand as she added to his ‘speech.’

“I think what my son is trying to say is that it’s so nice that we’re able to all be together again. There is much to celebrate in that.”

I felt my own arm move on instinct to raise my glass, following the rest of the crowd who quietly agreed with Mrs. Mellark, but Peeta looked entirely put off by the entire display. He sunk further into his chair, picking at something invisible on it, and hardly seemed to notice as we all drank to him.

“Dear lord in heaven,” Madge whispered beside me before tilting the rest of her wine back in one sip. “Just when this town was starting to get dull again.”

When Peeta turned in his wheelchair to go back inside, I noticed for the first time that while all his hair was short, there were parts that had been completely shaved off and in their place stitches which were still healing. Paired with the dark blueish circles around his eyes from the lack of sleep had him resembling something of Frankenstein’s monster. As I watched him make his way through the parted crowd, passing by me like any other stranger, I wished that I had Luke in my arms...if for no other reason than for something else to hold onto. 

Not long after Peeta left did Rye slip into the house to bring Luke to the makeshift nursery for a nap. Already he was practically asleep, with his cheek pressed firmly to Rye’s shoulder. 

A few minutes passed with both Mellark brothers gone when I turned to Madge.

“I need another drink.”

“Oh baby doll, I know.”

We went inside to the kitchen and Madge rinsed out our glasses while I pulled a bottle of white wine from the fridge and popped the cork open. She laughed when I filled the glasses well past a polite stopping point and then drank down a large sip.

“When did my life become a soap opera?” I groaned, burying my head into my hands. I felt her small hand trace soothing circles over my back, but she remained silent otherwise. Evidently at a loss for words.

“You do seem to have it stranger than most,” she finally muttered, and it was enough to make us both laugh in the most self-deprecating of ways.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you, Katniss,” she said quietly, mouth dipping into a low frown. “The truth is, I didn’t know what to say. Between Peeta’s disappearance and the baby...I know it’s a really bad excuse. I just felt so awkward so then I stopped all together and I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” I said, waving her off like it wasn’t any big deal. Really though, her apology meant much more to me than that. Because when everything happened with Peeta, it felt like everything in my world was crumbling at the same time. And the only people who had been there to pick up the pieces were Rye and the rest of the Mellark’s and Prim.

Without them, I’m not sure that I could’ve done it. 

So while I understood what Madge was saying, and how sorry she was...I couldn’t help but wonder how much better I would’ve been if she had stuck out the awkwardness and been by my side.

We shared a quiet smile and then were almost immediately interrupted by the sound of a large crash coming from down the hall.

Twin looks of panic crossed our faces, one hundred scenarios running through my mind as I dropped the wine glass and bolted towards the source of the noise, Madge right on my trail.

We rounded the corner of the Mellark’s home and went through the side door off the hallway, which led into the garage. 

There, Peeta stood on shaking legs and hands clenched into balls by his side. The look of anguish...of sheer rage of his face was confusing enough, but when I saw Rye on the floor beneath him, one hand cupping his face...I was entirely lost.

“What the _fuck,_ Peeta!” he shouted, rising up as blood trickled down from his nose. He moved closer to his brother, stalking and I rushed forward without thinking to grab hold of him before he did something he’d ultimately regret.

“Rye, no. Stop.”

“Listen to your girlfriend,” Peeta sneered, taunting Rye despite the fact that he was about to collapse. 

More people had come at the sound of the commotion, and then Delly and Madge were on either side of him, helping to slowly lower him back down into his chair.

“What are you even talking about?” Rye asked, still yelling. My nails dug into his taut muscles as I held onto him with all my strength, willing him to calm down. “You’re crazy.”

 _“Stop,”_ I said again, a little louder and it seemed to work that time. Rye looked at me from over his shoulder and I felt him relax some before pulling gently out of my embrace. Peeta’s bright eyes trailed between our hands, up to each of our faces and I felt like stone when our eyes locked together just a few inches apart.

“I think it’s best that we call it a night,” Mr. Mellark said from the side door of the garage, hustling the crowd that had formed out until it was just me, Rye and Peeta left.

“I’ll call you,” Madge whispered, and I nodded absently unable to focus on anything but the two brothers across from each other.

“Just get out of here,” Peeta snarled once the last of everyone else had left. He turned his chair around, like he couldn’t stomach even the thought of facing us. _“Go.”_

“Dude--”

“I can’t believe you did this to me,” he breathed out, entirely spent, and Rye’s eyebrows dipped in confusion.

“How does it feel to have my leftovers, _big brother?”_ he continued to taunt, and it was so obvious he was talking about me that I felt my heart rate start to increase. 

Beside me, Rye was tense again and I saw his jaw clench as he fought to remain in control.

“I don’t know what you’re implying but you better--”

“That’s right, you never did make it to college, did you?”

“Rye, no.” I was holding onto him again, keeping him from striking Peeta. “He’s not...himself.”

“He’s not ever going to be himself if he doesn’t shut up.”

“I guess the only congratulations that are in order go to you two.” Peeta continued, finally turning to face Rye again. “You conveniently left that part out when I asked you about her.”

“We’re not together!” I said with irritation, at the same time that Rye began to respond. 

“Left out _what?”_

“That kid should be mine!”

His words echoed in the empty space and for a moment all three of us were stunned into silence. 

Almost three years had gone by with me playing through scenarios where I told Peeta about Luke. Almost every one turned out different from the last, but none quite like this.

He thought Rye and I were a couple. And Luke was _ours._

I felt like it was Rye who needed to hold me back that time, because even if it were true he would have zero claim--absolutely _no fucking right--_ to come in here swinging and yelling the way he did.

Like he owned me.

“If you ever just shut up and listened, Peeta Mellark, you would know that _that kid_ _is_ yours,” I hissed, the fire welling up in my chest enough to set off an inferno. 

Rye’s hand reached out to steady my shoulder and his face was pale, a stark contrast to the blood that had begun to dry beneath his nose. His eyes were wide with shock, expression mixed with so many emotions I couldn’t pick out just one. Peeta looked almost the exact same way, but above it all was suspicion.

His eyes narrowed as they shifted between Rye and me, searching for any sign of a lie. 

“I--” he began, but when his words came up short, I felt the urge to flee. 

“I need to go,” I whispered, turning on my heels and neither Mellark boy stopped me as I jogged towards the door leading back inside the house to pack up Luke and his things.

Mrs. Mellark must’ve sensed it, because she already had the baby bag and my purse by the front door. I thanked her quietly, the best I could offer, and then jogged up the staircase to the spare bedroom that had been turned into a nursery for Luke.

He blinked sleepily at me as I scooped him up but had practically fallen back asleep in my arms as I went back down the stairs and towards the front entrance.

Through the garage, I could hear my name being called, but I didn’t turn around as I hastily made my way for my car. Luke was fastened into his car seat, confused and beyond exhausted as his little eyes scrunched shut tighter and he let out a small noise of protest.

Just as I opened my car door, it shut and Peeta was on the other side of it, panting as if he’d run a mile.

His eyes were wild, question lacing them as he stared up at me, and a few feet back--watching, waiting to intervene if necessary-- was Rye. I hoped though that it wouldn’t be necessary. That deep down I could trust Peeta not to hurt me.

But this was a different version of the soft boy I once knew. The bakers son who always had a smile for people. No, the hardened man I looked at now was some carbon copy. A hijacked version of him from what felt like a nightmare.

“I need to go,” I said, my voice surprisingly calm. “You don’t get to just decide you want to talk and I’m at your mercy.”

“I need confirmation of what you just said,” he replied quietly, eyes unable to focus even as he asked. His hands were gripping the seat tightly, as though he wanted to stand up but didn’t have the energy to complete the action alone.

When I nodded, his muscles seemed to relax some.

“He’s yours,” I whispered. 

When he moved past me to look in the back seat of the car, it was with an entirely different expression. The softest I’d seen of him since his return. His hand stretched out slowly to rest on the window and he leaned his forehead in too, pressing his nose into the glass.

I felt the ridiculous desire to reach out and place a hand on his back. Like somehow for that short moment, we all needed to be connected, but I refrained. It was a step I wasn’t ready for yet.

“I want to know him,” he finally whispered, turning away to stare at me with an expression that could only be described as physical pain.

“I tried to give you that opportunity,” I said back, just as gently. “I wrote you letters.”

“I...didn’t read them.”

“Well doesn’t that make me feel fucking _fantastic,”_ I hissed, sneering down at him. He didn’t seem phased by my anger, just stared back at Luke for a long moment before turning back to me.

“When can I see him?”

“I don’t know if I want you to, Peeta,” I said. “This is a lot for me to process.”

The hardness was back in his eyes.

“You don’t get to decide that.”

_“Yes,_ I do,” I replied, unwilling to back down. “And it’s a big decision so you’re going to need to give me some space to think, okay?” 

His mouth opened in reply but the words died on his lips as he seemed to think something over internally. When his mouth closed, I saw his jaw clench and he released a long breath through his nose.

“Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who can believe it's already July? I'm not sure where the time has gone to. I hope you all enjoyed the chapter! Thanks to everyone who has read and left feedback previously, it's much appreciated. Stay healthy and safe friends! xoxo

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! You may have first read this story as part of PiP or the continuation that I posted on tumblr a few years ago. This is not only an updated version of that story, but it will be completed here on ao3. I hope you enjoy as either a first time or returning reader! 
> 
> I would greatly appreciate your feedback :)
> 
> Come say hello on tumblr, I'm awhiskeyriver!


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